


The Truth, Part 12

by Seasider



Series: The Truth [12]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brother-Sister Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Darth Vader's A+ parenting, Disguised Darth Vader, Fanart, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Parent Darth Vader, Protective Darth Vader, Stylish Darth Vader, Stylish Luke Skywalker, Sunshine Luke Skywalker, Teenage Luke Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:48:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28298511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seasider/pseuds/Seasider
Summary: Luke and Vader continue their bonding long distance and in person as Luke remains with the Rebel Alliance, trying to persuade them to join their conspiracy. As their plot tightens and the time of their confrontation with Palpatine draws nearer, father and son have a lot of work ahead of them, including facing the medical modifications that they hope will change Darth Vader into Anakin Skywalker.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker & Friends, Luke Skywalker & Leia Organa
Series: The Truth [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775602
Comments: 70
Kudos: 94





	1. Jedi Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke shows off his special talents to the Alliance commanders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you know what’s been happening, first read the three “The Truth: Interludes” chapters that occur just before this current chapter and after The Truth: Part 11, Chapter 10
> 
> [The Truth: Interludes, Chapter 11: Parent Incoming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578542/chapters/67237489)
> 
> [The Truth: Interludes, Chapter 12: Baby Jedi](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578542/chapters/69238632)
> 
> [The Truth: Interludes, Chapter 13: A Child of the Force Can Dream Too](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578542/chapters/69400428)

_“What are you doing, my silly darling baby? That’s my hair!”_

_He didn’t understand the sounds she was making, but he knew she was Mommy and there was something long and soft that he could pull on and bring her smile closer. She smelled good. Her face came so close that he couldn’t see, and she rubbed against his face._

_“Need some help?” The Daddy voice, very close!_

_Laughter came from her and shook his body. A shadow covered him. He smiled and reached out another hand. More soft, shorter things._

_“Ouch! Now he’s got both of us! Luke— let go, sweetheart. Let go of Daddy’s hair.”_

_The short things slipped from his fingers, but the long things kept getting thicker and warmer and they tickled his nose. “Anakin, get his fluffy or he’ll never let go. My angel, Mommy’s hair is attached to her head.”_

_“Here comes Berrie! Look! Here he comes, Luke!”_

_Berrie floated to him. Berrie wriggled his little fat arms and legs in the air before swooping close and hugging him. He sighed happily. Berrie was even softer than the long things, and Berrie loved to snuggle. He yawned and closed his eyes._

_“He needs to wake up,” Daddy said._

_“No, he’s awake. He’s just pretending to sleep.”_

_“I don’t think so. Wake up, Luke!”_

_“You hold him, Anakin, while I check on—”_

_“Luke! Wake up! Luke—” Daddy shook his shoulder, and Berrie fell out of his arms._

“Wake up!”

Luke blinked. His eyes and brain began to adjust. He was… where was…?

What the krit, he was in Rogue barracks. Damn. Why couldn’t they have left him where he was? Asleep with his mom and dad, cuddled, warm, safe. Loved.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. It was cold here. He shivered and felt cranky. Why didn’t they all leave him alone? _“What?”_

“We want to talk to you in the Command Center.” Narra. Boss, too. They were standing, looking serious. Great. Perfect end to a lousy, boring day.

“Why?”

 _Because I said so,_ someone whispered.

“Really?” Zev Senesca interjected sharply. “What’s so urgent that you couldn’t let him sleep?”

The two commanders exchanged a look. “We let him rest all day, but we have business to take care of. Let’s go.”

 _Then go._ For a split second he hated them. He understood why his father would snap sometimes and—

But no, he was The Good Boy. Why was Berrie was on the floor? Luke frowned and picked him up and brushed off his furry body. “Fine. Give me a few minutes. I’m going to clean up.”

“Of course.” Boss remained standing, and Narra dropped onto the sofa Luke had just vacated.

“Seriously?” Luke sniped. “I know the way. You don’t have to wait for me.”

“We don’t mind.” 

Boss was speaking for two people? Oh, no, Boss wasn’t the boss of him. He rolled his eyes. Did they think he was going to make a break for it? There was nowhere to run. Well… except maybe to Yahoo. But he couldn’t leave without his clothes, and they’d take awhile to pack. “I haven’t done anything,” he pointed out. “I’ve only been here a few days!”

Narra waved him away without replying. Wedge sighed. “I hope I never get on your shit list,” he mumbled under his breath, but apparently both commanders decided it was wiser to ignore the tiny mutiny, if that’s what it was.

He took his time in the fresher, gathering his thoughts and sorting through his day. How had he done something that upset them? He hadn’t done much of anything at all. Stayed out of trouble. Studied. Dropped by the medical tent— pointlessly, because Andres wasn’t on duty. Talked to his dad for awhile and received a new list of instructions. Had a mid-afternoon meal so he could avoid the other pilots. He had nothing to say to them. If he wasn’t so tired of studying in his room, he wouldn’t have come out to the rec area tonight. Even so, he’d napped so he could keep avoiding them in a slightly more subtle way.

When he came out of the fresher, Narra stood. Luke ignored him and went to his bunk. Really, did they think he was going to Command dressed like this, all wrinkled from lying down? Maybe the full Alliance Command Staff was there. Which wasn’t likely, or they’d be hurrying him along. Still, he should dress nicely in case his dad’s snap-spy was lurking outside.

Well… the elegant ivory outfit was his ultimate Force fashion statement, so there was no point in wasting it now. They’d already seen the Sithly clothes. Why didn’t he have more blue? His dad should send him something blue! Anything blue, even without gold stars. He had all these clothes and nothing to wear. Nothing was right. They all looked the same. Black, white, brown, navy. _Boring._ Oh—wait! He had the embroidered cape from Coronet City. He could wear that over the boring Sithly shirt and pants. And the boots with embroidery along the shafts. There. It made a statement, but it wasn’t too much. He combed his hair carefully and hooked on his lightsaber. The cape hid it. Perfect.

“I’m ready,” he announced, being sure to stand straight and pose for a moment.

Wes chuckled, but Boss said, “Took you long enough.”

Luke tossed his head, feeling the hair swipe along the neck of the tunic. In another month it would be shoulder length and he could cut some off for his dad. “It wouldn’t hurt you— _any_ of you— to take more care with your appearance.”

“I’ll drink to that!” This time Wes laughed openly. “Hon, you want someone to go along for moral support?”

He paused in the doorway, gesturing the commanders ahead, and looked over his shoulder. “I don’t know where I’d find anyone like that in this room.”

So there. _Words can be as potent as any weapon, Luke. Use them wisely,_ his father had said.

_You betcha I did, Dad!_

Maybe he felt a bit guilty, but hell— after what they’d said to him, they deserved every jab he could manage. Let _them_ feel guilty— they should!

“I think,” he said as they walked, “that maybe I should be getting a salary.”

Narra coughed. Neither man answered.

“A small one. I mean,” he persisted, “how am I supposed to buy anything? Like… you know, socks or lotions or a hairbrush, stuff like that?”

“How do you not have money?” Boss asked finally. _“How?_ Does _he_ not give you money?”

“Of course he would! But I didn’t think to bring any back! And now what? How would I get it? Sure, I have a credit line, but do you have a bank here? No! Can I make a withdrawal? No, I can’t, can I? So you should be paying me! After all the money you took from my dad, you should be ashamed of being cheap!” He stopped and glared.

“Luke….” Infuriatingly, Narra was grinning. “If you have an account at IBC, you can get Alliance credits from the quartermaster. The exchange rate isn’t great, because it requires some… well, stealth… but you can use your ‘credit line’ here.”

“Oh. Well…. Okay.” Pacified, he continued the short distance to Command. By the time they arrived, his boots had a fine coat of dust on their suede uppers. He stomped gently on the first step and considered asking Narra to buff them. The idea almost made him laugh, but instead he sent a brilliant smile toward the night sky, hoping the spy got a picture of that to send to his dad. He straightened his cape.

“Your highness.” Commander Narra opened the door and gestured for him to enter. 

For a second, Luke thought maybe Leia was there, but then decided that sometimes Narra could read his mind. Or maybe his attitude.

“Thank you,” he murmured as he would to any underling. Then he came to an abrupt stop on the threshold because his beautiful silver bracelet zinged him with a shock. _Ow! Ow! Stop! Ow!_

Immediately he was on guard. This wasn’t the time to be amusing or careless. Something was going on… and they distrusted him enough to record everything he said.

Well, fine, he just wouldn’t say anything.

General Rieekan was across the room, staring at the strategy board. Right, like they needed strategy here, with his dad parked on the periphery of their little corner of the galaxy, protecting them from every other Imp in the universe.

The three men made themselves as comfortable as they could be in such hard chairs. “Have a seat, Luke,” Rieekan said.

He bristled at the familiarity. “Thanks, Carlist, I prefer to stand.”

Oops. What had he just told himself? He wasn’t going to talk, and if he did he would be serious. Yes, serious. Although serious didn’t necessarily mean respectful and servile. Or… he rifled his mental language tapes… _obsequious_. He didn’t have to be obsequious. He thought that was the right word.

“Suit yourself,” Boss said. “Are you having a problem with the squad?”

What the—? Great, one of the guys had told them of their skepticism about his allegiance. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he replied coolly. They weren’t going to get him to say anything incriminating about anything.

“All right, but if you need help, just say so.” Narra smiled slightly at him. “We had a… a….”

“We had a call this morning,” Boss interrupted, “from your father.”

That didn’t compute for a few seconds. His _dad?_ Called _them?_ And what did they mean by ‘call’? He hoped his face was as expressionless as it felt. They were trying to trick him into saying something about his dad. Not going to happen. He redirected the conversation.

“Why are you recording me?”

“What? We’re… not recording you.” Rieekan and the two commanders exchanged a quick look.

“You are.” Their faces would have confirmed it even without the damn band zapping his wrist intermittently like a com signal.

“No, we’re not.” Narra hesitated, looking again at the others. “I promise you, Luke, we aren’t.”

Well. He was more likely to believe Narra than the other two. He felt some deception… but it was less like lying and more like worrying. “Someone is.”

Rieekan sighed. “Your father said that if we were being monitored, you would know and could locate the equipment.”

“Of course. I can sense it.” No reason to tell them about his bracelet. “But why would he say that?” Especially since Vader had a spy in this office!

“Because he believes Jorde Yenkler is… isn’t… well, he said Jorde didn’t send messages to him.”

Who the hell was Jorde Yenkler? His confusion must have been obvious because Boss added, “The spy we arrested. The young man who works— _worked_ here in the office. We thought he was transmitting messages, but V— your father says he didn’t receive any.”

That kid had betrayed his dad? Dumb. It was surprising that he wasn’t dead by now.

“And he— your father— is certain that Jorde isn’t the source of the messages.” Narra was being so delicate about not saying Vader’s name. They all were.

Which made Luke put the entire problem together. His dad didn’t lie, and his dad told them he didn’t get any messages from the kid. So someone was spying on them, and it wasn’t Vader. Well… it _was_ Vader, but there was someone else too. And his father didn’t want that Someone to know Luke’s identity… _but_ he didn’t know who Someone was. He wondered if Jorde knew. And it sounded like the officers knew that the kid was his father’s spy. It was weird that his dad, his dad’s spy, the Alliance general and the commanders seemed to be working together… even while they worked against each other.

Why hadn’t his dad _told_ him all this? Was it some kind of test? Was he supposed to _really_ be surprised so he would react naturally and not have to _pretend_ to be surprised?

Why did spying have to be so _complicated?_

He nodded. Okay, he could give them a show and let them be stunned by his mysterious powers. He began to move around the edges of the room, extending his hand like he was receiving mental messages from the walls. The shocks didn’t get stronger or weaker, but remained steady. Maybe the bracelet was broken. He closed his eyes as he circled the room, trying not to make it obvious that he was having a problem. Maybe he was doing it wrong. Maybe the device wasn’t even in this room. His bracelet had zinged him a couple times, mildly, the first night he went to the mess hall, so there was something somewhere. But what if it wasn’t here?

Trying to appear confident, he turned to examine the command desk, the status board, the furniture. Nothing. But the signal was strongest in the center of the room. Stifling a sigh, he looked up.

 _Of course._ An air vent. Covering a duct that was exactly the right size for him to fit in.

And there was no way in however many Corellian hells that he was going into another duct ever again for the rest of his life. Unless his father needed him to.

The officers were quiet, watching him. Time for Force Magic plus a bit of Luke Magic. He extended his hand and called the vent cover to him. Lucky for him that it wasn’t screwed in— he should have checked that first. But it popped right out. And now for the Luke Magic. He jumped and caught the edge of the duct with his fingertips, then pulled himself up until his elbows rested in the duct.

Whoa! A couple weeks of not working out was catching up to him. His arms were aching. But he wouldn’t let that show. He hung there and could see as far as a bend in the channel. Nothing, but he could sense a device around the corner. He gave it a Force tug and felt resistance. It was attached somehow, and maybe he shouldn’t rip it off because he needed to see if he could figure out its source.

He dropped down lightly and brushed off his sleeves. “General, if you would move.” It felt good to direct Rieekan. Carefully, he sensed the location of the tracker or whatever it was and ignited his lightsaber. Boss jumped a little, but Luke could feel his fascination.

“I’m going to cut it out,” he announced, “so it stays intact and we can examine it.” He looked at the three others. “I really don’t want to smash it unless you insist.”

“Good idea. Let’s look at it,” Rieekan said, and Luke decided maybe he liked him— maybe all of them— because they were being respectful to him. But not _obsequious._

He cut a smooth, round hole in the ceiling and through the duct, smiling faintly as he remembered his dad rescuing him out of a duct on the Devastator. The good old days that he sort of missed. When he switched off his saber, he gave a little Force tug, and the ceiling and metal fell into his palm. Particles of dust and construction materials covered the desk, but Luke managed to stay out of the way and not get more dirt on his clothes.

“Don’t worry about the hole. I have friends in the Carpenter Shop who will fix it.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Narra said, sounding rueful for a reason Luke didn’t understand until the commander added: “You seem to have friends everywhere around the base.”

 _I do?_ That was interesting. Although now that he considered it, a lot of people usually said hi to him. Huh.

He put the pieces on the desk since it was dirty anyway. The small gadget was fastened to the metal. “Screwdriver?”

They looked around like one would miraculously appear. “I can go get one,” Boss offered.

Luke sighed. “Never mind.” It was a pain in the butt to use the Force for tiny things like this. If he’d known this was what they wanted, he’d have worn his tool belt. But he managed to _focus_ and unscrew them one at a time and lift the device off.

His dad arrived in his head. _Good work. Now examine the bottom to see if there are any identifying marks. Unless you feel something?_

 _Nope, that’s a negatory, Dad._ Really, he totally needed that tool belt. Maybe he could hide a little screwdriver in the hilt of his lightsaber.

 _No,_ his father said.

“Hmm. Does anyone recognize this type of monitor?”

Three heads bent close and studied it, then shook.

“Okay, then.” It would ruin the drama and suspense to ask for his tool belt, so he carried the unit to a side table. “If this table doesn’t survive, I’ll find a new one for you.” For the second time he ignited his saber.

_What are you doing? Be very careful!_

Yeah, well…. He held the saber steady, using the edge to sear along the sides of the unit, barely touching it. The table ended up marred but usable. Good enough.

_It may be hot. Don’t burn yourself!_

Only because his back was turned to the others could he roll his eyes. He rehooked his saber, then grabbed a stylus to flip the device over. There was a tiny, unfamiliar mark on the bottom.

_Let me see._

_Only because you ask so nicely,_ he teased, concentrating on allowing his father to see the image.

 _Hah!_ Vader sounded pleased. _That is good. It is not another Imperial or Sidious, it is the mark of those damned elusive Maracavanya, a coalition of pirates based in Wild Space._

_Really? I didn’t know pirate coalitions had symbols… actually, I didn’t know pirates had coalitions._

_Check your ‘Dadbase’ as you call it. There you will find continually updated identification images and codes of every known group and ‘coalition’._

_Thanks, Da!_ he Sent cheerily before turning to the others. “This is the symbol of the Maracavanya, a coalition of pirates from Wild Space.”

General Rieekan frowned and shook his head. “Well, now we know why we’ve had more problems with our shipments being intercepted. They’ve been receiving our schedules.”

Luke took a closer look at the unit. “It’s not broadcasting now. It must be on some sort of timer. Shall I destroy it or do you want to send false information?”

“I say destroy it,” Narra offered. “Unless we want to confront them. Rumor says it’s a huge organization. We can’t afford to fight on two fronts.”

 _They’re not even fighting on one front,_ Luke pointed out to his father.

_Let them keep their illusions, Son. The Empire will chase the pirates out of this system. It’s a big galaxy. They can find other prey._

He wasn’t sure how he felt about passing the problem on to someone else. On the other hand, the Empire could police the galaxy; the Alliance didn’t have to do it.

_Hey, are they going to reinstate your spy? Since he’s… well, not exactly innocent, I guess._

_I instructed them to release him and return him to his position. They know he is mine._

Well, _that_ was interesting. So the Alliance was obeying his dad because…. Okay, he didn’t have a clue why.

_Now you may tell them what YOU want._

Right. They’d talked about this earlier. Luke cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, since I have eliminated this problem of yours, I have some needs of my own to discuss with you.”

# # #


	2. Little Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke tells the Alliance what he wants, gets advice from Master Kodra, tackles the problem with his fellow pilots, and has a bedtime chat with Dad Vader. All in a day’s work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The call from Vader that they talk about is here: [The Truth: Interludes, Chapter 11: Parent Incoming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578542/chapters/67237489)

Luke cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, since I have eliminated this problem of yours, I have some needs of my own to discuss with you.”

“Oh, you have, have you?” Boss folded his arms.

Luke ignored him, considering how to tell them his requirements without making them sound like demands. Which in truth they were. “I have. There’s a lot coming up.”

“Such as?”

This time he looked at Boss. “If you’re going to interrupt me after every sentence, this will take longer.” That earned a smile from Commander Narra. “I have a lot of studying and training to do, especially with the lightsaber.”

“With Kodra?”

Luke gaped at Boss and spread his hands dramatically. _“Seriously?”_

“Commander Dreis,” Rieekan said, “could you withhold your questions until later?”

“He’ll try,” Luke replied, interpreting Boss’s expression. “But he’s not making any promises. Anyway… I can’t be on the work roster full-time. I can help out as a mech as needed, and I’m totally open to fly under any circumstances, but I have other obligations. And there will be times I’ll have to leave.”

“Leave—” Dreis snapped his mouth closed.

“Yes, for a few days at a time, sometimes longer. Don’t ask me why— you already _know_ , I’ve told you often enough.” He paused, but no one spoke. “I need to train more intensively to be ready for… everything.”

Silence. Now he almost wished Boss would ignore orders and ask a question. “I can train a lot on my own. But with Master Kodra— Well, he’s very, very good, but so am I. I’m afraid of hurting him when we use real sabers, so I hold back. Maybe he does too. I need to practice with someone more skilled.”

“And who would that be?”

He almost gave Narra a Look before realizing that the commander was making it easier for him. “My father.”

“And he won’t ‘hold back’?” Narra’s voice was soft.

“No.” _And he won’t hurt me._ Not deliberately anyway. He didn’t add that because he was weary of giving them reassurances they refused to believe.

General Rieekan leaned back in his chair and watched him. Boss shook his head. “Why?”

“I just _told_ you why.” _Ears!_ as his dad would say. “If you have a better idea of someone who is superbly skilled with a lightsaber who would be willing to train me, let’s hear it.” As if. There was no one better than his father. He looked at Rieekan. “What did he say when he called?”

“I wasn’t present. Gentlemen?” He indicated the other two.

“Well, as best I remember—” Narra began, and Boss made a scoffing noise.

“You didn’t record his call?” Luke asked, astonished.

“No.” Narra was appropriately embarrassed. “It was on an Alliance channel. There’s no need to record routine contacts.”

“There didn’t used to be,” Boss muttered.

“He basically scolded us for awhile,” Narra began, “and was concerned that we weren’t—”

“Taking good care of you,” Dreis interjected, making Luke smile a little.

“Exactly. And he—”

“He kept interrupting us.”

Luke raised his eyebrows. 

Narra gave his cohort a pointed look and cleared his throat. “Not unlike someone else I know. Let me tell the story.”

Boss subsided with a scowl.

“He wants you on the Alliance Council, which— yes, I know, you said that when you first got back here. He also said that your integrity has been ‘impugned’ by the other pilots.”

It had been more like ‘suspected of being a traitor’, but yeah.

“And as we told you, he said his agent wasn’t responsible for our...um, security issues, and he requested that Jorde be reinstated in his position.”

It was becoming more and more difficult to keep a straight face. _Requested?_ Hah! It felt like his dad wasn’t present now, which was too bad— Vader would have enjoyed this. And also would’ve been proud that his son was _thinking before speaking_ so Narra would keep babbling.

“Of course we— well… I suppose we may possibly let Jorde back since it seems pointless to bar him and he’s… supposedly he’s only here for your protection. Even though… I guess you don’t know that. But…?” Narra sent a question to Rieekan.

The general nodded. “Now that we know he’s Vader’s agent and can keep an eye on him, I agree. He stays on duty for now. With restrictions.”

 _And I’m NOT Vader’s agent?_ Luke thought wildly. Did they _trust_ him? And was the spy only here for _him?_ Really? He waited, wondering if they intended to feed Jorde false information that would go back to his dad.

“He explained that you had the power to be aware of devices and disarm them. And he talked more about—”

“He said that he would, and I quote, ‘burn down the galaxy’ if anything happened to you,” Boss interrupted, the fraying hold on his patience finally snapping. “We assume that’s an exaggeration.”

Damned if there wasn’t a question mark at the end of that statement. Luke remained solemn, just tilted his head and shrugged one shoulder. There was an awkward silence that he decided to break. “He has a wicked sense of humor, but….” He hummed under his breath for a moment, then: “So. What did you think of him?”

The silence actually felt heavy. “He was….” Narra began, then stopped.

“Firm.” Boss tried for neutrality. “And… assertive.”

“Very protective of you,” Narra added kindly, which earned him extra points in Luke’s mental ledger. “Anyway.” The commander cleared his throat. “He also said you’re a ‘Child of the Force’. Does that mean something special or just that you can… use the Force?”

So using the Force wasn’t special enough? “Both.” They waited while he decided if an explanation was needed. _Again_. “You know when they take my blood, it only reads as partially human— _organic._ The rest is energy, the Force in my blood cells.”

Rieekan folded his hands on the desktop. “Is that true of all Jedi?”

 _How the krit would I know?_ “No, just me and my father. We’re the only ones.” _Except maybe a sister, which is IMPOSSIBLE! Improbable anyway. No, not happening._ “He’s… half-human and half Force.”

The three officers exchanged unreadable looks. “He sounded so _normal,”_ Narra began cautiously. “I think we all— everyone— I mean, with the voice we hear on holos, we assumed that he was like Grievous from the Republic days who was… basically a brain connected to a mechanical body.”

Luke froze. No, his father wasn’t— Well, part of him was mechanical, but only his arms and legs. And some organs. And— He finally found his voice. “No. He’s a man— _more_ than a man. His Force half makes him something unique in the galaxy.”

They weren’t asking, but he felt compelled to find a different way to make them see how special his father was. They never seemed to understand his explanations, but he was struck with a new and brilliant idea.

“We— my father and I— are a unique species. Children of the Force. There’s no one else like us. We’re _hybrids.”_ He remembered his dad had liked that description. Or at least was amused by it. “We have a connection, a bond between us. We love each other, but it’s more than love as you comprehend it. We _understand.”_

Commander Narra leaned forward, and Luke desperately wanted him to get it. “I know you think that when it comes to my father, I’m young or naive or blinded by my feelings, but you’re wrong. I know he’s done things that some won’t forgive. But people only know the image, the Emperor’s Enforcer. I know _him._ The being. The essence. I know his heart and mind. I know who he once was and understand why he became what he is now, and I know how he struggles every moment. He’s been through things that none of you would wish on your worst enemy. Even Darth Vader,” he added with the hint of a challenge. “I know how alone he was through his entire life— because I felt that, too. And whatever I felt, he felt it doubled. We’re different from everyone else. We give each other the understanding and hope we both need.”

Narra sighed. “Luke, it’s obvious that you love him. But I’m sorry, I don’t see—” He stopped and reconsidered. “Things may not work out the way you want them to. It’s possible that… well, that you could lose him. What would you do then?”

A sharp retort was on his lips, but he hesitated and looked at them. Rieekan, his gaze bland and waiting. Boss staring at the wall. Narra, his cheeks pinked. The question was a setup, but for what?

Sithspit! All his imploring came down to this? Fine. Then why not give them what they expected? “Who knows. Maybe I’ll burn down the galaxy,” he answered, unsmiling.

Narra’s flush became more pronounced. Luke wondered if the other two were pushing him, believing that he was the closest to Luke. Which was true.

“I’m trying to say, Luke, that you haven’t suffered the terrors he’s committed, the destruction, the deaths. There are people who will want retribution even after the Emperor is gone.”

“What’s your point?” He glared, then softened. “He’s told me everything. And he’s also taught me that the past can’t be changed. What happened, happened. All any of us can do is go on and be aware of our choices in the future. He is _trying._ He can be free of Palpatine, we _all_ can be, and that will change everything. That will—”

“He said he wants to rule,” Boss interrupted.

“For awhile,” Narra corrected. “To control the military.”

“And the moffs.” Luke nodded. “They’ll all be jockeying for power, but none of them is strong enough to defeat him, particularly when the military rallies around him.” He had a suspicion that his dad had something very final in mind for the moffs, but he wouldn’t speculate to the Alliance.

“Will they?”

“Yes,” he snapped, because any other answer was unthinkable. “Between the Imperials, the Third Side, and the people who don’t give a damn, he’ll have the support of the majority. Although—” He couldn’t stop bitterness from seeping into his words. “If it were my decision, I’d let the galaxy flounder in the mess you all have created. Leave you to deal with it and get the hell out.” _Run to wild space, another galaxy, get out while we can. Before it’s too late for us._

No one spoke. Luke swallowed more words and shrugged. “When I present his plan to the Alliance Council, we’ll go into more detail then. When the time is right.”

“Very well. You’re on the Council,” Rieekan announced. “Barring emergencies, it will meet in a few weeks. I’ll leave it to Commander Narra to decide on your duty-related requests. Gentlemen, we’re done. Skywalker—thank you for your assistance and for enlightening us.”

“Somewhat,” Boss added dryly. 

Luke grinned at him and nodded to Rieekan. Finally, some respect! Maybe his dad’s advice about being dignified was actually working. But he was still worried about becoming boring.

Away from the stress of that small office and into the unbearable humidity of the hangar, Luke shot a proprietary look toward Yahoo, seeing his amazing ship still tucked neatly into its corner. He had heard it was the object of speculation by many mechs and pilots, and he felt very proud that his dad had made it for him. Maybe he could fly tomorrow, just for practice.

“Officers Club?” Narra asked.

“Yes, I need a drink.”

“Me too!” Luke chirped.

The commanders looked at him. “Not you.” Boss struggled to hide a smile.

“Why not? I’ve already been there, remember?”

“Vividly,” Dreis replied, and Luke wondered why that word was often applied to things he said or did.

He supposed he could whine about going or not wanting to go back to face the pilots alone, but it didn’t seem worth it. Instead he headed to Kodra’s quarters, ready to set up a new training schedule, and found the master standing on his head.

“I received a shipment of remotes,” the Zabrak announced, skipping the conventional ‘hello’. “You will practice with those tomorrow so I may evaluate your improvement or lack thereof.”

“Hi!” He sent a blinding smile to the other man. “I’m fine, thanks. How are you? Feeling your world has turned upside down?”

Kodra grunted and dropped neatly to the mat, pushing his purple hair back over his shoulder. He gestured Luke over and grabbed his wrist, studying the bracelet. Luke suspected that the master could read _501-501-501-501_ all the way around it.

“Commander,” Kodra stated and Luke wondered if the bracelet revealed his new title, but the man added only: “We start tomorrow at 1500 when your rest is ended.”

“It’ll be ended by morning, I’m fine!”

“Acquire doctor permission and bring it to me.”

Great. Did Kodra want a note from his dad too? “Okay. Are you teaching other classes?”

“No. I am here for you only. You must work very hard.”

“Well, that’ll be a change.” Disgruntled, he folded his legs and sat. “The other pilots questioned my willingness to defend them in battle. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I can forget that or forgive them.”

“Do _you_ question yourself?”

“No.” He sighed. “I’ll do what I have to do to keep them safe.”

“Then they are the ones who must ask for forgiveness, not you.”

 _That’s what I think!_ “I don’t know if they will though.”

“What they believe does not matter. You know your own truths. Come tomorrow.”

A nice way of saying ‘dismissed’. Luke nodded and left.

Pausing outside, he gazed up at the stars. He looked around for someone to visit with, but everyone he saw looked busy. Easy for Kodra to say that the pilots’ opinions didn’t matter, but they mattered to Luke. They were his first friends since Fixer, and he didn’t want them to give up on him.

He wouldn’t accomplish anything by stalling so he drew in a breath and headed for the barracks. Maybe they _would_ apologize. Maybe not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never.

Maybe there was no point in putting off a confrontation any longer. Fine! He marched straight to the barracks and shoved open the door. The guys were all sitting around doing the usual, playing cards and watching the holo, but—

Luke stopped and jerked his head back. _What the hell—?_ Mouth dropping open, he stared.

Wes Janson was wearing a familiar blue hat with a huge feather and a green brocade vest that didn’t quite fasten closed over his fatigues.

Zev Senesca, sitting at the table, wore a long purple coat that dragged on the floor.

Hobbie Klivian had a scarlet scarf with ragged fringe wrapped around his neck multiple times.

Wedge Antilles had on blue velvet pants and a gold satin shirt.

Jek Porkins was in his usual work clothes but his hair was blue. He looked away from the holo and said plaintively, “They snatched all the clothes before I got back. So I dumped blueberry juice on my head.”

“Those are— those are—” His voice caught and he swallowed hard.

“Yeah, they are,” Zev said. “The wardrobe you came here with. Wes had them packed away.”

“And we thought maybe the best way to show you that we understand—” Janson began before he was interrupted.

“Was to be in your shoes. Literally.” Hobbie slid his foot from under the table to reveal Luke’s tan wrap boots. He hoped they didn’t get stretched out by Klivian’s big feet.

“Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say. Maybe people like this were the reason his dad didn’t want to run away and leave everyone behind.

Wes threw down his cards and stood, reaching out to Luke who took a step back. “We didn’t know how else to say we’re sorry. We _do_ trust you, but we were….”

“You were gone for so long,” Zev said softly. “We thought you weren’t coming back.”

“We thought you didn’t love us anymore.” Porkins grinned. “Although that tub of chanilla pretty well convinced me.”

Luke looked at Hobbie. “Yeah, I suppose you’re okay,” Klivian acknowledged grudgingly. “Don’t expect a hug from me though.”

“For which he will always be grateful,” Wedge said. “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t punch you like he did me.”

“Hey, it was mutual!” He absolutely positively wasn’t teary and no one could tell him differently.

“I seem to remember that I clocked you.” Wedge pushed away from the table. “Here, play my hand. I’m losing anyway.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Luke demurred, but sat and picked up the cards. “Looks like a good hand to me.”

Hobbie snorted. “How would you know a good hand? You’ve never played with us. Probably never played with anyone.”

“It’s been a long time,” Luke agreed. “No one in Mos Eisley would play with me because I always won.”

“Hah! Not this time,” Zev declared, then hesitated. “Uh...did you really always win?”

“Sure. I cheat,” he announced cheerfully, stealing a few chips from Zev’s stack and tossing them into the pot.

# # #

Of course he won. He didn’t need the Force to count cards, but it helped. And using the Force wasn’t exactly cheating. Well, maybe it _was_ , but they weren’t playing for real credits so it didn’t matter. Anyway, he was happy and everyone else seemed to be. For an instant, he wanted some of his old clothes back— but that was only a moment of nostalgic weakness.

After he turned off the light and climbed into bed, he nudged his dad gently. _Hey._

_Bug._

_How are you?_

_Busy, but well. What happened?_

_Why would you think something happened?_ He smiled. _I found the spy-thing so they cleared your spy and are going to reinstate him._

_Good._

Luke pouted. _Do you mean good for your spy or good that your son did an amazing job of finding the monitor?_

_Both. I am ecstatic that your ‘beautiful new bracelet’ worked as advertised._

_Oh, honestly! You have a penchant for sarcasm._

_Congratulations on using a new word correctly._

He wanted to shriek with frustration, but it turned into a giggle. _Upon occasion, you are almost as funny as I am. Anyway… also, the pilots apologized._

_As they should._

_Yeah, they’re not so bad after all._ He clutched Berrie to his chest. _Just to show they were trying to understand me, they put on my old clothes from Tatooine. Remember them?_

_Vividly._

_Yeah, they were great. Vivid._ Maybe that word would follow him for his entire life. _Seriously, Dad, why didn’t you stick around when I talked with Command?_

_I had some Supreme Commander business to attend. You remember that I have a job?_

Luke snorted into Berrie’s fur. _Right, I almost forgot that. Well, you would’ve enjoyed it. Your ‘call’ really threw them. But they were baiting me, I think. Not sure why. Maybe because of who I am. Who WE are. I told them that we were...uh… a unique species. Maybe I made mistakes with my answers?_

 _Possibly. Don’t worry about it._ Vader was distracted for a moment, then returned, amusement in his tone. _‘Unique species’. Interesting. Luke, I knew you would be fine. I realized that ‘upon occasion’ I must allow my little bird to spread his wings and fly._

Luke blinked, happy-sad. His father was letting him grow up.

There was a pause, then: _You WERE fine, weren’t you? And you’re wearing your bodyglove, correct?_

He laughed. Yeah, that was more like it! _Yes and yes. And I’ll always be your little bird, Dad. I may fly, but I’ll never fly away._ The pleased reaction was a warmth rather than a thought, and it was all either of them needed.

 _Dad,_ he Sent sleepily, because that single word was the best way to end every day.


	3. General Skywalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of his busy day, Luke has his Mandalorian moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luke Skywalker motion capture. [...this is beautiful Luke and I love it.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a6bz2Mr2SC8)

Enough was enough. His “rest” was supposed to last until afternoon, but he was finished with it. There was too much to do. He dressed early, grabbed a quick breakfast, then retreated back to his bunk while the others were still getting ready. Shoving audiobuds into his ears, he punched into the transmission code. It buzzed only once before the voice answered.

“LeKauf.”

He stopped himself from saying _Hi_ and opted for a greeting more befitting his new importance. “Good morning, Captain. This is Luke.” He paused to wait for a two-second recognition.

“Good morning, Luke. Are you all right?”

Great, his dad must have impressed his anxious attitude on his aide. “I’m fine, thanks. I want to know how the modifications are progressing. Any appointments scheduled?” Sure, it was a secure channel, but was anything _really_ secure?

This time the hesitation was longer as LeKauf figured out what he was asking and how to respond. “Uh… parts have been ordered but installation has not been scheduled.”

“What’s the hold-up?”

Pause. “You should probably check with the Chief Engineer about the timeline.”

Wouldn’t it be _great_ if his dad was only an engineer? They’d both be happier. “I will, and you may tell the Engineer that I inquired. In case he ‘forgets’, please keep me informed of scheduling changes so I can be present for the work. Hope you’re doing well, and contact me if I can do anything for you.”

“Thank you, I will.” LeKauf sounded bemused before they disconnected.

Luke nodded, satisfied. He wasn’t going to let his dad get away with _not_ having the surgery or keeping him in the dark for some ridiculous self-sacrificial notion.

He trotted over to the Command office in time to see Narra enter for shift change with Boss. Well… couldn’t hurt to listen for awhile. Casually, he leaned against the building and sharpened his hearing. It was boring for a couple minutes before it became worthy of his attention.

“Any leads on who installed the monitor?” Narra.

“Somebody on the cleaning crew.” Boss.

“I _know_ that,” Narra snapped. “But who?”

“I interrogated the night shift, you can do days.”

“I wonder if Luke could help find the person.”

_You wonder??_ Of course Luke could help! Uh… couldn’t he?

There was a longer silence that was broken by General Rieekan. Luke decided that officers never slept, or at least they didn’t look like they did.

“It’s starting to feel that while the Imperial forces are commanded by Lord Vader, the Alliance is being maneuvered by General Skywalker… whether we like it or not.”

Wow! They meant _him?!_ He’d impressed them so much that they were— Well, sure, they were being sarcastic about the “General” part. But still, they accepted how much he was in charge. He and his dad.

Luke sighed, excited about telling his dad later. Vader would be so proud! Smiling, he knocked on the door and let himself in. “Good morning,” he said politely according to his new statuses both official and unofficial.

Commander Narra tapped his fingers on his knee. “Are you cleared for duty?”

“Not yet. I have to see Dr. Andres. But I feel fine, so that’s only a technicality. Do you have anything for me to do today? Except not this afternoon because I need to practice with Master Kodra because I haven't used my lightsaber in almost two weeks!”

“Horrors,” Boss muttered.

“I don’t have much this morning,” Narra answered, overriding Dreis. “See the doctor, get cleared— So you’re practicing with Kodra this afternoon?”

_Didn’t I just say that?_ Luke inclined his head.

“I’d like to observe if that’s all right.”

“Yeah, I’d like to see a lightsaber in action, too,” Boss added, and Rieekan joined in with an affirmative.

Great, an audience for General Skywalker’s spectacular fighting style. “Sure. About 1500. I have to warm up first.”

The three officers nodded. “Good. Anything else?”

“Yes.” Luke smiled. “I want a list of the Alliance Council members.” No one responded immediately. “I want to research their backgrounds so I know who I’m dealing with and if it’s safe to reveal my identity to them. Unless they already know?” Which was what he assumed.

“No, they don’t,” Rieekan said, surprising him. “The only two who knew were Dodonna and Willard.” He didn’t ask what Luke could hear him thinking: _Is that why your father attacked the base, to kill them?_ Or was he reflecting his own question on Rieekan? “Everyone on the Council is an Alliance supporter. Their credentials have been checked in every way possible. They’re clear.”

“Well,” he said carefully, still smiling, “I might have access to records you don’t.”

He let that statement sit in the silence while they exchanged glances and considered that yeah, maybe he did. Although they didn’t know he had the entire Underground Database at his disposal— a guy had to have _some_ secrets.

Rieekan nodded, and Boss entered information into a datapad that immediately produced a chip. Luke took it. “Thanks. If work comes up, com me. Otherwise I’ll maybe go for a run and then be with Kodra this afternoon.”

“Get a medical clearance before you do anything,” Narra reminded.

“Sir!” Luke grinned as he left because he hadn’t said, _Yes, Mom!_

That had gone well. Now for the harder discussion. Maybe he’d luck out and Andres wouldn’t be on duty and some other doc would clear him without questions. But no. Cris Andres was in the main room talking to an assistant when Luke walked in.

“You’re in luck,” the doctor announced, the exact opposite of what Luke was thinking. “I’m free. Wait in my office.”

_Wait? WAIT? General Luke Skywalker of the Rebel Alliance and Commander (Honorary) Skywalker of Vader’s Fist, the 501st, son of the Imperial Supreme Commander— you want him to wait?_ “Sure,” and couldn’t help grinning at his brainwork.

But… if this kept up, soon he’d have as many titles as he had names. Maybe not his best idea.

In the office, he paced a few times and stretched and squatted and generally tried to warm up his muscles. He was hopping in place when Andres entered.

“I take it you’re feeling better.”

“I never felt bad! I need to be cleared so I can do things. I have to practice with my lightsaber because the commanders and General Rieekan want to watch me use it today and I haven’t practiced in almost _two weeks!_ I have to stretch and meditate and work with Master Kodra before they come— so I don’t have much time to get ready!”

Andres sighed a little. “Let me see your head.”

“It’s right here,” because Luke had to be Luke even when he was General Skywalker.

Fingers probed the back of his skull. “No dizzy spells or fainting?”

“Fainting? Seriously? It’s not like— well, never mind.”

“I heard you’ve been sleeping more than usual.”

Who was spying on his sleeping habits? “Yeah, because I was _bored!_ There was nothing else to do. So can you clear me for duty now?”

“I suppose…. Oh, all right, provided you’re careful.”

What was this ‘careful’ of which the doctor spoke? “Sure! I might go for a little run this morning to get the kinks out. Then some exercise with Kodra. Maybe hand-to-hand combat practice— although I might not have time. So just lightsaber practice.”

“What time are the officers watching you?”

“Fifteen hundred, so I have to practice!”

“I’ll come by and watch, too, if that’s all right.”

Geez. “Sure, I guess.” He hoped Kodra was okay with visitors. “Hey, I looked up midichlorians but there’s not much information. Was there something in particular you wanted?”

“Not really. Sit down, will you?”

Oh. He was pacing again. But it was hard to stay still. Luke forced himself onto a chair.

“I need to ask you a difficult question.”

Krit. “Sorry, Doc, I’m not the marrying kind. I appreciate the offer though. It’s not you, it’s me.”

That actually brought out a chuckle. “I’m heartbroken. But seriously, Luke, are you a spice user? There was no indication of drugs in your blood work, but that pilot said….”

_Thanks, Big Mouth Hobbie!_ Luke frowned. “I did spice when I was young. Not lately. Not for a couple years. Except once.”

“Recently?”

“No!” Krit, do _one thing_ wrong and people never let you forget it! “On Death Star Day.”

“Death Star Day,” Andres repeated. “Why? Were you celebrating?”

_Celebrating?_ He was almost angry before remembering that the doctor didn’t know anything. Well, Doc’s background check had been clear and he would find out sooner or later, so maybe he should say, _I killed two million people, so I wouldn’t exactly call it celebrating. Saved the Rebel base and everyone on it though. That should count for something._

Instead he said, “Two million people died on the Death Star, and we lost Rebel pilots, including Biggs Darklighter.” Saying those words made him wish they’d been better friends. They could have been if Luke had been a better person in those days. Although if they’d been close, it would have been harder to bear Biggs’s death. “Biggs was a hero and my friend. So, no, I wasn’t celebrating.”

“I’m sorry.” Andres stared at the top of his desk although there was nothing on it. He sighed and looked at Luke like he was seeing him for the first time. “All right. Well, if you feel tempted to use spice again—”

“I won’t,” he interrupted. “Can you drop it now? Sheesh!”

“All right,” the doctor repeated, struggling to smile. “How have you been otherwise?”

_Otherwise what?_ It occurred to Luke that it was good that people couldn’t read his mind. And it was good that he had learned to think before speaking. “Now that you’ve mentioned my blood…. So you know how I’m a hybrid, both organic and energy?” One eyebrow raised, and he took that as encouragement to continue. “Has anyone else here tested that way?”

“You mean with ‘energy’ in their blood? No. Why do you ask?”

“Well… in case someone does, you need to tell me right away.”

“Patient confidentiality,” Cris reminded him.

“Is overridden by the need to protect this base.” There. It sounded exactly the way he had rehearsed. “I’ll need to know. It could be a Sith. Or another kind of dangerous Force user.” Or it could just be some princess. But surely they’d taken her blood here. Or maybe a princess got special treatment.

Wait. Did he think _maybe?_ Hah, of course she got special treatment!

“Luke.” Another sigh, another small smile that had better not be patronizing. “You’re not responsible for the security of this base. And I have an obligation—”

“I’m a member of the Alliance Council,” he interrupted. “So I am, in fact, responsible for the security of this base.”

“You’re on the Council?” The surprise wasn’t hidden, not even a little. “I wasn’t aware of that.”

“It’s a recent appointment, Captain Doctor.” Luke kept his tone bland. “And if you come across such blood readings, please tell me directly, don’t take it to the Council. I’ll mention this to General Rieekan so he can confirm that base protection comes before patient confidentiality.”

He sounded so _General Skywalker!_ If he could have squeaked with excitement, he would have. His dad was going to be so _proud!_ Why wasn’t Vader listening in? He always missed the good stuff!

“You have a lot of secrets,” Andres said almost under his breath.

_Actually, only one secret. But it’s a big one._ “So I’m cleared, right? Do I need a note or something?”

“I’ll let Commander Narra know.”

“And Master Kodra.”

“Yes. I’m looking forward to meeting him. He’s something of a mystery figure.” The doctor stood. “I’m also looking forward to seeing you in action.”

“That’s what they all say,” he quipped before he could stop himself.

Andres laughed and squeezed his shoulder as he stood. “Just take it a little easy— Oh, why am I bothering? Go ahead and do what you normally do.”

Luke gave a half-salute as he left. “See you around, Doc!”

____

He stared at his reflection. Physically, he looked good. Correction! He looked _perfect._ Trim, dressed head to toe in a black ensemble highlighted only with a silver buckled belt that matched his bracelet and lightsaber. But mentally he was nervous. These were his friends; he’d known the two commanders for a couple years, and this was his first chance to show off his skills. What if he made a mistake?

“What if I make a mistake?”

“They know nothing and will not know if you make any sort of error.” Kodra studied him. “Unless you remove one of my limbs.”

“That’s not funny! You’re wearing armor, aren’t you?”

“A bodyglove, yes. So do not feel you need to restrain yourself. As I will not.” The smile reminded him of a womprat baring its teeth. “Now go and meditate until we begin.”

Luke spared a brief glance at the three— no, now four men at the far end of the practice room. Cris Andres had joined the Command staff. That didn’t help his nerves. He settled on the floor and closed his eyes. He heard the door open and… were those giggles? He peeked under his lashes. Oh, great. The Rogue pilots. All five of them. _Really?_

In a flash, Kodra confronted them. “This is a center for serious contemplation and study, not amusement. If you wish to stay, be silent. General, am I to expect you have invited additional spectators?”

“I didn’t invite these,” Rieekan responded, which was and wasn’t an answer.

“I did.” Narra. “I apologize if that was not appropriate. They are Luke’s fellow pi—”

“I see who they are,” the master observed coolly. “They may stay if they are respectful. But no one more.”

“I didn’t invite Night Shift,” Boss said, either trying to be helpful or curry favor.

Luke sighed and opened his eyes in time to see Wes Janson raise his hand tentatively. Kodra looked at him without expression.

“I was wondering… uh, are you using real lightsabers or practice ones? Is there a difference…? I mean, I don’t….”

“We use ‘real’ lightsabers at full power, so do not move from your places. You should be relatively safe here.”

He hid his smile and focused inward. It was still difficult to—

_Relax._

_Dad!_ Delight filled him. His father was going to watch! Or—wait. Was that good or bad? _Are you watching?_

_If that meets with your approval._

_Sure. But don’t help me! I can do this myself._

_I know you can, Bug. You don’t need my help._ His father sounded disgruntled.

_Only this time, Dad. I’ll always need you._ He smiled before retreating inward and centering himself into a calming state of meditation where he remained for several minutes. When he was ready, he unfolded his legs gracefully and stood, drawing the saber and holding it loosely.

Kodra ignited his lightsaber and it flared with the color of a clear Tatooine sky. Luke waited serenely, enjoying his newly-honed discipline acquired from the teachings of his father and Kodra. He sensed a change in the master in the instant it happened, and his saber came to life as the Zabrak swung at him.

They traded blows, easily at first, as they did in practice sessions. Luke felt detached, like he was watching their encounter from outside himself, yet he was remarkably focused. They moved, circling each other, Luke always defending, never the aggressor. He could feel Kodra’s pleasure at his student’s performance and pinpointed the second his teacher was distracted.

Luke struck and flipped his blade upward, sending the other’s lightsaber skittering across the floor. He reached out with the Force to snatch it before it reached their audience. Someone gasped. He tossed the hilt back to Kodra. “Shall we get serious?”

The master nearly grinned as he nodded, and the conflict began in earnest. Luke batted away the blows, taking his turn at initiating strikes, passive no longer. Pressing Kodra who retreated a few steps, pushing controls on a wristband. Luke whirled as one— two— now three remotes began firing at him. His blade clashed with the blasts, deflecting the lasers directionally, keeping them away from the others in the room. Spinning, he repelled both the bolts and Kodra, whirling and ducking as more remotes were initiated. Nine, ten— He lost count. There were so many, _too_ many, he needed to—

His perception of time slowed. In his mind, the remotes hovered, red laser beams moving incredibly sluggishly. Luke diverted them easily, flipping the lightsaber over his shoulder to deflect two blasts behind him. Another remote buzzed from one side, the other side, over his head, skimming around his knees as he danced away, and they began to speed up again, zinging faster and faster. Kodra was fighting more aggressively, too, and he was becoming an annoying insect, so Luke _pushed_ him without a gesture. The master fell, dropping the saber that Luke seized immediately. Now he wielded two blades, purple and blue, twirling and leaping, loving every moment, every action, every feeling that cascaded through his limbs. This was what he was born for. This was _Luke Skywalker, Son of the Chosen One._

In one blindingly fast movement, he spun in a circle, precisely slicing each remote in half— save for one. As they fell to the floor, he deactivated Kodra’s saber and reached out with his hand— oh, _this_ was why the old Jedi had used hand gestures, it felt _amazing!_ and so _powerful._ He clenched, not touching the final remote, simply curling his fingers and closing his fist tighter and tighter as he watched the remote disintegrate. He released its remains. A small cloud of dust and soot drifted to the floor.

Luke focused on Master Kodra who remained sitting on the floor where he’d been tossed, challenging him. The Zabrak bent his neck slightly and stood. Luke turned off his glorious saber, refastening it to his belt, then tossed the master’s weapon back to him. Never before had he felt like it was an extension of him, another limb. The realization was startling. Abstractly, he noted that he wasn’t even breathing heavily. But why would he be? It had all been so simple and instinctive, every movement had been compact and… _satisfying._

If only there had been _real_ enemies to fight. The ripple of blood-lust was so strong that he could taste it on his tongue.

_That’s my boy,_ Darth Vader crowed in his head. Luke’s eyes narrowed, and he drew a long breath. He slanted his head and gazed at the Command officers and his friends. They were…

_Staring._ Just staring. No one spoke. No one laughed or smiled or said, _Good work!_ Dr. Andres had twitchy lips. Rieekan’s face was rigid, Narra’s cheeks were flushed, Boss looked… well, like he wanted to roll over and have a smoke. Embarrassed, Luke cleared his throat and studied the pilots.

“So,” he said, giving them an opening that no one took. After a moment, he added, “That’s what I’ve been practicing.”

Several seconds of silence passed, then Porkins said, “Wow! You could take on Darth Vader himself! And maybe win!”

A bark of horrified laughter was torn from him. “Not a chance!” he exclaimed. “Not happening!” _Not ever, Dad!_

_Not ever._ His father didn’t sound quite as confident, and Luke frowned.

_Don’t even think it. It’s not happening._

_Bug._ And somehow that short word was reassuring.

“That was….” Hobbie began and stopped. He sent a look to Wedge, who appeared to be struck dumb.

“Fierce!” Wes Janson declared.

Zev nodded. He was the only one who didn’t appear surprised.

General Rieekan stood and the two Rogue officers joined him. “Thank you for the demonstration, Lu— Mr— Skywalker. It was most enlightening. Your skills are impressive, like nothing I’ve seen in many years. Master Kodra, thank you for allowing us to observe.”

“Back to work,” Commanders Narra said with an awkward smile. “See you later.”

Everyone emptied out of the room. Luke bit his lip. “Do you think they liked it?” he asked Kodra uncertainly.

_You scared the shit out of them,_ his father observed.

“As the general said, your skills are impressive.” Kodra hung his lightsaber on the wall hook. “Indeed, you have been practicing during your absence.”

“I had a good teacher.” Abruptly he felt drained and tired, like there should be something more. A celebration. A party. A victory speech. Seriously. _Something._

_We’ll talk later, Bug. You did well. I am proud._

Okay. His dad saying he was proud was enough. And wait until Darth Vader heard about “General Skywalker”! Luke beamed at Master Kodra. “Shall we practice again? I hope you have more remotes.”

# # #


	4. Stranger Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke interrogates and is interrogated by the other pilots. And of course he and Dad Vader have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reference to “General Skywalker” was in [The Truth: Interludes, Chapter 11: Parent Incoming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578542/chapters/67237489)

Euphoric! That was what he was! _Dad Dad Dad! I’m a Euphoriac!_

A rush of amusement answered him. _As you should be. Your performance was magnificent. I’m proud of you, Bug._

This time he actually squealed with joy and spun in a circle. A passing soldier gave him an astonished look, then grinned at his obvious delight. _Dad, they called me ‘General Skywalker’! ME!_

 _What? When did they call you that?_ His father sounded surprised or… well, disbelieving.

_Today! They didn’t exactly say it to me, but I was listening._

_Eavesdropping?_

_You betcha! Rieekan said that Darth Vader was running the Empire and General Skywalker was running the Alliance. Or something like that._ He saw people heading into the mess hall. Now that he’d stunned and impressed them, he’d join the pilots for dinner and maybe they’d talk more about how amazing he was. 

_I’m hungry. Can we talk later?_

_Eat something healthy,_ Vader Sent, and Luke spread his hands in acquiescence, figuring his dad knew he was doing it even though he couldn’t see it.

The cook behind the line returned his wide smile and gave him an extra-large helping of vegetables. Luke pretended to be pleased. She also warmed a slice of pie and he didn’t have to pretend. As he walked to the table at the far side of the mess hall, dodging chairs and stretched-out legs, his bracelet twinged and he paused and looked down at the back of Jorde Yenkler’s neck, the spy/not-spy kid from the office who had obviously been released from the brig but was carrying an Imperial spy device. Or maybe the Alliance made him wear a monitor. Well. Life was complicated.

“Hi,” he greeted the pilots cheerfully. Zev slid over to make room for him. He rubbed his shin against the pilot’s leg just because he was soaring and feeling a little flirty. Wes reached behind Zev and whacked Luke’s back, making him laugh.

Boss was there and Luke wondered, a bit irritably, why Boss wasn’t with his Night Shift guys. They were already at work while he was hanging around eating and chatting with Narra. What kind of example was he setting for his crew?

He had the answer to ‘why’ immediately. General Rieekan joined them, which _never_ happened. And Dr. Andres. Great. The entire table consisted of everyone who had been at his lightsaber show. He supposed he should be prepared for something. Interrogation? Or maybe admiration, that would be much better. Although that was probably expecting too much.

Resigned, Luke nudged Zev who nudged Wes, and the three of them moved over as far as they could on the bench. The general sat next to Luke, which was… awkward.

“Everyone, good evening,” Rieekan said and was answered with polite murmurs.

Sometimes the worst thing in the universe was silence, especially when people were chewing. Although since the canteen was full of talking and sometimes shouting, it wasn’t as bad as the silence in the barracks. Still…. “So, what’s new?” he asked brightly to the table in general.

“Uh,” Wedge replied.

“Anything broken?” Luke persisted. “Everything working okay?”

There was a long pause before Hobbie said, “Nah, it’s all good.”

“Oh. ‘Cause if anything’s broken, I can fix it,” he offered.

No one replied. This would never do. Luke slid a sideways glance at Rieekan and Narra. “Did you know that every life is a star?”

His question fell into the silence like a piece of steel clattering on the table. Maybe a beskar spoon. “Not literally, of course,” he added.

Wes leaned around Zev. “I’ll bite,” he said gamely. “How is every life a star?”

Good, an audience! Luke waved his fork. “Every living being comes from somewhere. We’re all made from stars— the ones that have died and spewed their… well, guts… into the universe, and it all landed on other planets or stars or just kept floating around and eventually it turned into life. So I can look at the night sky and see you guys. Sort of. I mean I can pick you out from stranger stars.”

“There are stranger stars?” Porkins’s eyebrows drew together. “But when you say ‘everything’, do you mean _everything?”_

Luke looked at him. “Well… I didn’t say ‘everything’. I said every living being. But, yeah, I guess you’re right since everything has to come from something.”

Commander Narra sighed softly.

“What about that thing you squished?” Porkins gestured with a close fist. “You know. It was shooting at you, and you squished it without touching it. How did you do that?”

Narra sighed again. Boss frowned. General Rieekan shifted and his knee touched Luke’s thigh. Luke turned to stare at him, pretending to be affronted. “Pardon,” Rieekan murmured.

“Um…. It’s called a ‘remote’ and I’m not certain how I do that. Maybe I just see it in my head and take it apart from the inside. I’m a terrific mechanic, you know.”

“Yeah, but— Ow!” Porkins glared across the table at Wes. “You kicked me!”

“Sorry,” Janson said blandly.

He didn’t understand why they were being so weird. He’d explained all this to Zev one night; hadn’t Zev told anyone that he could blow up things? Even people? Oh. Okay, that would be why Zev hadn’t talked. “I guess… because everything comes from something, everything is made up of pieces. You know… atoms.” He wasn’t sure how many of them had any knowledge of science beyond what they needed to fly the ships. “I can feel the structure and take it apart. Because it’s alive in a way.”

“So even things that aren’t alive are really alive? Don’t kick me again!” Porkins warned Wes.

“Yes!” Pleased that at least one of them was beginning to understand, he continued, “If things can be put together, they can be taken apart, right? That’s what we do every day when we work on machinery.”

“I guess.” Porkins was uncertain. “I don’t really understand. I’m slow at sussing out oddball ideas like that.”

“No, you’re not!” Luke exclaimed. “What kind of talk is that? You’re creative and imaginative. You understand enough to ask meaningful questions.”

“Oh.” Jek Porkins flushed. “Thanks.”

“So,” Hobbie said, trying to jump on the imagination bandwagon, “what if it’s not good to take something apart? I mean… what if it’s bad or wrong to….” His voice trailed off.

“You’re asking about good versus evil,” General Rieekan said with a mildness that Luke assumed was deceptive. “How do you know which is which?”

Sometimes it felt like everything was a trap. Like every day he walked through minefields without even noticing there were mines. Which maybe was why he made it through. The general’s words— that wasn’t a generic philosophical question. Same old, same old. Rieekan— and the commanders, judging by the uncomfortable feelings they were broadcasting— had talked _AGAIN_ about him and questioned his beliefs and intentions, maybe even set up gullible pilots with doubts. Maybe he shouldn’t have displayed his lightsaber skills. Now the officers were wary of him. _Warier._

Luke shrugged. “Good and evil depend on one’s point of view.”

“Such as?”

Oh, c’mon! It was obvious. But he could lead them along step by step if the officers wanted clarity about his morality. Which, honestly, he wasn’t too sure about himself. “Destroying the Death Star, good or evil? Depends what side you were on. Shooting down TIEs and X-wings? Same thing. Killing animals for food? Good to us, evil to the animals. You’ll find that most beliefs and actions depend on your point of view.” Luke speared a long bean and munched it. “For example, even though this bean has been boiled to death, it still screams when I chew it.”

Shocked silence reverberated around the table. Everyone looked at their plates. Finally Luke chuckled. “Kidding! Honestly, you guys!”

A series of groans followed, and Zev elbowed him.

“Yeah, but seriously really,” Porkins said, “I’d like to know some of the stuff you feel. Even though I’ll never understand.”

“Hmm.” He wasn’t sure if it would work, but— “Meditate with me sometime. Maybe I can show you. Any of you. I don’t know if it’s possible, but we can try.”

“Great! Let’s do it after dinner!”

“Let’s finish dinner first.” Cris Andres spoke for the first time. “You all need to keep up your strength.” Then the doctor frowned as if he couldn’t believe his own cliche.

“Sure, Doc!” Porkins, however, wasn’t ready to stop talking. “I like to experiment with new things. You know, when I was a kid, I wanted to work with wild animals. Like in a nature reserve or something.”

“You wanted to see a varactyl,” Hobbie observed sagely.

“Yeah. Never have.” Jek slumped. “Probably never will.”

“Why not? You just have to go to Utapau. That could be your life goal after the war.”

There was another moment of quiet around the table as everyone appeared to consider ‘after the war’.

“What about you, Hobs?” Luke asked. “What did you want to do?”

“When I was a kid?” Klivian considered. “I wanted to be a mountain climber. Until I actually climbed one. Cold. High. Legs hurt. Couldn’t breathe. Hated it.”

Luke giggled and nodded at Wes. “Your turn.”

“Holo reporter,” Janson responded enthusiastically. “I wanted to be on the holoscreen every night and be mobbed by adoring fans. I used to interview everyone around the dinner table. Hey— I could do that now! Dr. Andres, tell us about your childhood dream.”

“I wanted to be a doctor.”

“Oh. Well…. Okay, at least one of us has accomplished our dream. General—”

Rieekan sent a Look to Wes, who immediately changed direction.

“Wedge?”

“Pilot.”

“Could you expand on that for our audience, Lieutenant Antilles?”

“I wanted to fly.”

Luke giggled again. “Wow, Wes, you really have a knack for in-depth reporting and getting to the heart of everyone’s story.”

“Smart ass. Fine! What about you, Sky— Loneozner?”

Ugh. Loneozner again. Or—wait! His nickname could be ‘Sky’! Why hadn’t he thought of that before? What a great name!

Except that he had so many names and titles already. Maybe he shouldn’t add another. Too bad.

“I don’t remember that I had any dreams as a kid. Just nightmares.” He shrugged and reached for the pie. “Until my dad found me and made me behave and start learning. Then I decided I wanted to be a hero. It was silly, but that was _years_ ago, I was only a kid, and at the time it seemed….” He didn’t finish the sentence, because he realized he still wanted to be a hero, first for his dad, then for the galaxy. _Sky to the Rescue!_ “I want to change things.”

“You already have,” Rieekan said quietly, and Luke wondered exactly what he meant. “You should know that I instructed everyone present that what we saw of your skills will not be talked about in front of others.”

“Until you say it’s all right,” Narra added, ignoring the general’s head swiveling toward him.

“That means you, too, Porkins,” Boss said.

Luke sent Porkins sympathy with his gaze. “I think not yet.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, Zev! What about you, what did you dream about being when you grew up?”

“I haven’t grown up yet.” Which was such an evasion! Zev was a closed book— it was frustrating.

Luke turned, intending to focus on the commanders and pester them, but Rieekan rose. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

 _Or maybe a drink in the officers lounge,_ Luke thought. Generals and commanders couldn’t work 24/7. Not even General Skywalker. They all had to keep their strength up, doctor’s orders!

Boss and Narra stood, likely because they couldn’t keep sitting once the general said it was back-to-work-time. Cris Andres made a move to rise, but Luke said, “Stay for awhile. Unless you’re on call.”

“I’m not. I can stay for a few more minutes.”

Porkins pushed against Hobbie. “Get away from me. Move down. So, Lu— Oz,” he began in a whisper, looking around like there might be a spy within hearing distance. Of course there wasn’t—ahem. “I’m not talking about you-know-what, so don’t kick me, Wes.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. It doesn’t seem to work anyway.”

Jek leaned forward and gestured to Luke. “What’s it like to be you? Do you see things the same way we do? How can you be so fast? And accurate?”

“Practice. Lots of practice and study.” He stared at his fork and scraped the remains of the pie onto the tines. “I don’t…. I mean, I don’t know if you see differently than I do. What we see and feel is normal for each of us, right? How would anyone know if they see things differently?”

“Don’t know about seeing,” Wedge offered, “but you certainly react faster.”

“You think so?” Luke tilted his head. “You respond in an instant when you’re flying and fighting. It’s because you’ve practiced, and maybe it takes some basic talent. What I do isn’t really different.” Okay, it _was,_ but he didn’t want to declare that right this second when he was trying to make everyone else feel important, too.

“I understand what you’re saying.” Zev’s gaze scanned his face. “But what you do with the saber is different. You’re anticipating. You’re sensing danger before it happens. Those remotes are programmed to randomly fire, right? There didn’t seem to be a pattern. And there were so many of them.”

“And how did you— I’m not sure what you did to Kodra.” Wes bit his lip. “I mean, his feet weren’t on the floor, you made him fly away.”

“He didn’t _fly.”_ Luke wriggled in his chair. “I just shoved him.”

“Without using your hands,” Zev observed.

Luke tsk’d loudly. “Look…. It’s like I said about everything being composed of pieces. Once you see the pieces, you can manipulate them. He was in my way, so I moved him, that’s all.”

Porkins inhaled sharply. “Could you have taken his pieces apart?”

A shiver of horror went through him. This was going too far, and he didn’t know how to answer. Because yeah, he could, but he sure as hell wouldn’t say that, even though he’d said it to Zev, which made him glad for a change that Zev was a closed book.

“I think you’re being carried away by that vivid imagination,” Dr. Andres remarked lightly.

“Yeah,” Luke agreed and sent a grateful nod to Cris. “If I could take things apart easily, you all would have had a piece of this terrific pie.” He pushed his chair back and picked up his tray. “I have to get back. Got some studying to do, and I want to call my dad later. Anybody coming?”

“Sure.”

That was the end of a really weird dinner. Now he could spend a pleasant evening watching the tourism tape his dad sent about Beautiful Mustafar.

Luke sighed.

# # #

“This is an interesting choice of a place to meet,” Darth Vader said.

Luke climbed on the jagged lava rocks, studying their surroundings. So dark and surreal. Rivers of lava all around, even pouring from beneath the tower. “Too insensitive of me? Well, you sent me that damn tape, what did you expect? Honestly, Dad! What a horrible place! And this ‘castle’.... Well, granted, its architecture is impressive, but if I thought Vjun was gloomy and depressing, this is something else entirely. Why would you want to live here?”

“I thought I could defeat death.”

“What? You _what?”_ Luke repeated stupidly. Was he actually getting a straight answer? “What do you mean?”

“Legends. I thought I could bring back Padme.” Vader waved his hand. “Mustafar is a locus of Sith power.”

Great, another Dark locus. How many were there? “Oh. Like Coruscant? Is this as impregnable as Vjun, or doesn’t Palpatine know about this place?”

His father looked toward him, slanted rims of the black helmet reflecting the fiery glow in the air. “He gave me this planet.”

Luke frowned and gnawed at a cuticle. “Why? You mean he was giving you more power? That seems… unlikely. Or did he want you to be in the place that gave you nightmares?”

“There certainly was an element of sadism in his gift.”

“Everything he does to you is sadistic.” Luke shivered, a purely emotional reflex because there was nothing cold here. “It will be so wonderful when he’s gone. And when we get you fixed better.” He hesitated. “Dad… I know you hurt all the time, but what about now? When we’re in this meditation state— do you hurt?”

“No.” The helmet disappeared and Anakin smiled. “Not with you. When I meditate alone, I still have pain. I manage it. But whatever the reason, with you… I don’t know, Bug. Perhaps it’s the Light you carry inside you or the healing we’ve worked on. Whatever it is, my pain level lowers more and more each time we’re together this way.”

“But only when we’re here, not in real life?”

Anakin shrugged. “It helps a bit, less so when you’re not present. So not only do I enjoy your admittedly delightful company, when we meditate I also feel better physically. Or perhaps I should say ‘metaphysically’. Now stop chewing on your nail.”

Luke grinned and hastily tucked his hands under his legs. His smile faded slowly. “We could stay here,” he offered, aware it wasn’t the first time he’d made the suggestion. “We could live in our heads. You’d always feel good and we’d always be together and there’d be no war or Sidious.”

“You have a full life to live, Son. I don’t want you to miss any of it.”

“I guess.” He leaned, burrowing his head into his father’s shoulder. “Maybe later, when we’re done with life, then maybe we can live on in our heads.”

“Maybe.” Anakin slipped his arm around Luke’s back and pulled him closer. “Now what is all this about ‘General Skywalker’?”

“Yes! I heard them! They respect me and think I’m in charge.”

His dad sighed. “Luke… I agree that they respect you, but….”

“What?” Suspicious, he drew away— but not too far.

Anakin shrugged. “When I called the commanders, I… for security reasons, I identified myself as General Skywalker. It was my military title during the Clone Wars.”

“WHAT? Well, shit!” Luke straightened and folded his arms. He was _so_ glad he hadn’t mentioned the ‘general’ stuff to anyone else. “Just when I think I’m important, it turns out to be _you!_ It’s always you!”

“Only because I’ve had many more years of experience,” his father soothed. “You _are_ important to the Alliance— more than they know. And of course, you are the most important thing— _person—_ in the galaxy to me.”

“Yeah.” He pouted but relented, relaxing contentedly in his father’s embrace. “They said you said you’d burn down the galaxy if anything happened to me. And I said I’d do the same thing if anything happened to you.”

The helmet returned and it was Darth Vader who responded. “Have you ever considered choosing your words more judiciously?”

 _Judiciously._ “Yeah, maybe. I’m still practicing judicious. They still don’t trust me. Rieekan was at the dinner table tonight cornering me _AGAIN_ about good and evil.”

His dad chuckled. “He needed clarification?”

“About me, not himself. Presumably.”

“Perhaps.” Luke smiled as his father added, “Now you must sleep. Tomorrow will be another day of—”

“Hard work, I know!” He smacked his father’s arm and freed himself. “But I have more research to do tonight. They gave me a list of the Alliance Council members and I want to check their backgrounds.”

“Send the names to me and I will research them.”

“I….” Luke hesitated. “I don’t know if I can.”

The lenses that had turned a deep crimson in this atmosphere focused on him. “You’ve forgotten how to transmit data?”

“Of course not! But…. You must have all their names already, don’t you?”

His father’s cape swirled, which was curious because Luke hadn’t manufactured a wind in his vision. “Representatives join and leave. I need a current list.”

He looked toward the horizon and couldn’t find one. “Dad… I’m not a spy. They already think you killed Dodonna and Willard because they knew my real identity.”

“They said that?”

“No. I just… you know. Sensed it.” _And I know that’s why you did it._

Vader moved in front of him, thumbs hooked in his belt, his favorite pose of intimidation. “Are you refusing to give me the list? We must have it for our plans.”

“I…. Let me research them first, Dad. If I have any questions, then I can ask you about them.” His hands shook, and he clenched them behind his back. “I can’t give that to you. Please. We need them to trust me, you know that.” He scrambled for another reason. “And— maybe they didn’t give me the real list. Maybe they planted names to see if I’d give them to you and you’d do something to those people.”

“I am most displeased with your reluctance. However—” Vader tilted his head. “—I will allow you to have your way, Bug. This time. But I expect you to contact me with any concerns.”

Luke heaved a sigh. “Okay! Now you get some sleep, too. Love you!” he added quickly as their surroundings faded away.

That had been… almost scary. Imagine Darth Vader being _really_ mad at someone and facing them. He hoped his dad never—

Someone rapped on his door. Zev stuck his head in. “Would you join us?”

His lips parted. Well, _no,_ he didn’t want to but didn’t have a good reason to decline. He unwound his legs and followed the pilot into the central room. All the pilots were looking at him. Boss and Narra and Cris Andres and General Rieekan were there too. All standing. All looking.

“What’s going on?” Instinctively he began to back up, but Zev stopped him with a grip on his shoulder.

“Are you a spy?” Zev asked.

“What?” His throat clogged with a gasp he couldn’t swallow. “A— what? A _spy?_ No, of course not! I’m not! Why would you—”

“We know who your father is,” Wes said. “Did you really think we wouldn’t figure it out? Used to be a Jedi, isn’t any longer. Taught you his lightsaber tricks. Filthy rich. Powerful. Flies TIE fighters. That narrowed the possibilities down to one.”

“Vader. Darth Vader,” Porkins whispered almost reverently. “Which would be cool if he didn’t slaughter entire cities and planets.”

“I….” He looked from each person to the next. No one appeared sympathetic.

“Two generals dead, a base wiped out. Because of you.” Commander Narra sighed like he always did. “I trusted you.”

“So did I,” Boss interjected, “until you murdered that spy.”

“And you _choked_ me,” Wedge added. 

“I— You said my dad was a slaver! You were _looking_ at me!”

“We should execute you,” General Rieekan said, “but we’ve decided that we can use you to control Vader. You’re our hostage.”

“But I— But he— He’s _protecting_ you! This base! He’s—”

“Enough talking. Your father is most displeased with you, and so am I.” Hobbie raised his hand and a bright red flash appeared.

Luke looked down. At first there was nothing to see. Then a dark stain began to spread across the center of his shirt. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Black spots sprinkled across his eyes like dark stars… every star was a life. And his star….

_...his star…._

The skies were empty.

Luke gasped, groping for air. He sat up, his hand slapping his chest. He was—

In bed.

He covered his mouth. Had he cried out? Listening, he could hear no reaction, only murmuring voices and the sound of the holoset. Shaking, he punched his pillow, forcing his eyes closed.

_They can never know. Never._

_Never._

It was best to go to sleep, not go out there and see them. Just in case he looked guilty.

 _Dad,_ he thought but didn’t Send. Despite everything, saying good night with that word was the best idea he’d ever had. It was like a prayer. Because in so many ways, his father was his lifeline.

A lifeline that would always be there for him, no matter what. He had to believe that.


	5. His Brilliant Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke receives an assignment, talks to his dad, and shares a brilliant idea with his maybe-sister Leia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m ignoring the galactic travel time charts that are online because the times are so long that Luke would be aging in dog years. For story purposes, travel is faster. I use planets from the AU or Legends or my head, and their climates are sometimes subject to my whims.

“Tomorrow’s assignments. Janson, fuel pickup at 1400. Senesca, take that modified A-wing and put it through its paces.”

Luke didn’t bother to look up or even pay attention. As usual, there would be nothing for him. He had to get his second lung scan anyway, so between that and working with Kodra and maybe climbing a pyramid or two—

“Oz. Luke. _Luke!”_

“What?” Maybe there was a ship for him to repair! Or _anything_ to repair. Or maybe he could go with one of the guys on a pickup. Or maybe—

“Are you listening?”

“Yes, of course.” He nodded. “What did you say?”

Wedge snickered and Wes grinned.

“I said, you’re doing a supply run to Presbalin at 0800. Think you can handle it alone?”

What? Where? But— _“Alone?_ Hell, yes— I mean, yessir!” Finally! He tried to stop his feet from tapping, but this was so exciting. The commander actually _trusted_ him.

“It’s a long trip, and the loading will take quite awhile. I expect you back by 1800.”

Maybe he could stretch it longer. “I’ll need a lunch break.” He smiled at Narra. “And probably a dinner break too.”

The commander’s lips twitched. “All right. Be back by 1900. Can you manage that?”

“I don’t know! I’ve never been there!” He looked at the others. “What’s it like? Is there a shopping district? Or a spa? Or some amazing sight I should see while they’re loading?”

“Luke, this isn’t a pleasure excursion. I expect you to treat the trip seriously. This is the first time I’m trusting you to go without an escort.” Narra shot a frown at Wes, who struggled to look guilty about their Corellian shopping spree. “Also, Presbalin is cold, so be sure you have appropriate clothing.”

Now _that_ was an order he had no problem following. Mentally, he rifled through his wardrobe, wondering what—

“Take one of those cold weather ponchos you bought,” Wes suggested, his mind evidently still on Corellia. “They’re under my bunk.”

Luke leaped up. “Yes! I’ll get it now! I’d better start getting ready! I’ve never been anywhere cold! This will be awesome!”

He had to decide what would go well with the poncho. And he had to talk to his dad _immediately._ Which he did as soon as he grabbed the fuzzy garment and rushed back to his room.

_Dad Dad Dad! Are you there? Dad!_

_Of course I’m here. Where would I go?_

_I’m going on a mission tomorrow— alone!_ he squealed. _Only for supplies, but it’s going to take all day! I’m going to Presbalin, and the commander said it’s COLD! I’ve never been somewhere cold! Do you think it will SNOW?_

_That’s likely. But don’t even think about ice skating. This is business._

Well, he hadn’t thought about skating until his father mentioned it. But he knew Vader was right. _Yeah, but did you hear what I said. They’re sending me ALONE!_

 _Because you are proving your value to them, as I said would happen if you applied yourself and remained dignified._ Vader sounded smug. _When you go, be sure to wear your armor. All of it._

 _Oh, c’mon,_ he protested. _The guys will make fun of me. It’s just a supply run, I don’t need armor. And if they have a spa, I’ll have to get all undressed and it takes forever to put everything back on._

_Humor me, Son._

Damn. It wasn’t fair that Vader used the magic word. _Fine! But I’m going to be uncomfortable and miserable the entire time._

_I’m very sad for you._

Luke rolled his eyes. _Oh, stop! The trip is going to take so long. I’ll barely have time to eat._

_Take Yahoo._

He paused. _What? Why? Does it have enough room for the supplies?_

_Plenty of compartments in her underbelly. She’s faster. That will shave at least an hour off your time in each direction. It won’t help in hyperspace of course, but outside of the lanes—_

_Dad! Are you encouraging me to— I mean, Narra said I won’t have time for shopping or sightseeing. I’ll barely have time to EAT!_

_You are repeating yourself. At any rate, you must do what you think is right. What city are you going to?_

Hah! Tacit permission. Luke yanked open his door. “Sir, what city am I going to?”

“Centralia.”

“Thanks!” He slammed the door, ignoring Porkins who asked if he was searching the database for shopping possibilities. _Centralia!_

_Ah. They have a small and somewhat disreputable shopping district that is known for taking advantage of their customers._

_Oh._ He was only slightly disappointed, then perked up. _Maybe I can get some chanilla._

 _No more of that! It’s not healthy,_ Vader scolded. _I should never have given it to you._

Luke smiled. _But you did! Okay, well…. Anyway, that’s what I’ll be doing tomorrow. Hey, we need to talk about what’s going on with your lung replacement._

_LeKauf told me you called. Are you impatient?_

_Yes! Aren’t you?_ He was getting the impression that suddenly his father wasn’t in a hurry to have this surgery. _Maybe we can talk while I’m in hyper._

_No. You must use that time to study. And now, Luke, I want you to settle down and meditate tonight. You must be mindful of your surroundings when you travel to a new destination._

_Okay._ He pulled the poncho over his head and off again immediately. It was way too warm to wear here. _Talk to you tomorrow night?_

_Yes. Contact me if you need assistance. And remember to be dignified. Good night, young one._

_Good n— No, wait! What would you think of ‘Sky Ozoner’ as a nickname? Just the ‘Sky’ part anyway. Although the whole thing would make a good undercover name._

There was a long pause before: _Good night, Bug._

Luke wasn’t sure if no answer was approval or not. _I’m not going to bed yet. It’s early._ Well, he had his wardrobe to lay out— Oh. No, he didn’t, not if he was wearing armor. At least the poncho would cover it so no one would notice that he was dressed for battle instead of a supply run. But he should take extra clothes in case of… something.

It was way too early to start meditating plus he was too full of energy to ‘settle down’. Maybe he should go for a run. Or get his lung scan tonight and _then_ go for a run, and he had to tell Narra—

He burst out of his room again. “Sir! Sir!”

The commander barely looked away from the holo where exceedingly boring and Imperial-slanted political coverage was airing. “What is it?”

“I think my undercover operative name should be ‘Sky Ozoner’. What d’you think? Isn’t it _terrific?”_

“It’s very you,” Wes offered with a smile.

“That’s fine,” Narra said with surprising indifference. But then he stood and stretched. “Come to my office.”

Luke dropped his head and groaned. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Geez, go!” Hobbie snapped. “We’re trying to watch the news.”

“Some news,” he sniffed dismissively. Maybe one day he would show them the DadBase and connect to the _real_ , uncensored news. Or maybe not. 

He followed Narra into the office and closed the door without being asked.

“Sit. What do you know about this?” The commander swiveled his holoscreen. It showed a blurry snap of—

Oh. The Executor in the Kuat Shipyards. “Big ship,” he observed neutrally, resting his forearms on the desk, trying to remember what his dad said about telling the Alliance. Was he supposed to play dumb or should he say he’d been there— or something in between?

“A new Imperial ship. Very large. We’re hoping you can tell us more about it.”

“ _We?”_ Luke repeated, stalling.

“Us. Command. Dreis and Rieekan and me. Intelligence says it’s called ‘Executor’.”

Ouch. Narra pronounced it wrong, ‘EXecutor’ like it was somebody coming with a blade to chop off your head instead of…. Well. He bit his lip, trying not to make the correlation. “That’s… an awkward name.”

“It seems appropriate considering that its load of lethal armament must be staggering.”

“Oh.” Staggering. Yeah.

“Apparently it’s blockading the Yavin Bypass.”

 _“Apparently?_ Can’t you tell? Looks like a big thing to hide.”

Narra turned the screen back to himself and studied it. “And although it’s close and they surely know we are here, they have made no move to send out a strike force. Does that make sense to you?”

He stifled a sigh. Did they have to play this game? _Apparently_ they did. Luke cleared his throat. “Well… a lot of systems have Imperial warships covering them. I guess it makes sense that there’d be one at our Bypass too. And… it’s not like the Imps would assign a second ship to the same system, right? As long as this one is here.”

The commander studied him. Luke widened his eyes and held the gaze. After an endless twenty seconds (he counted in his head) Narra said. “I suppose that’s logical. But I wonder… is the ship stationed here for another reason?”

 _Are you asking if it’s here because of me? Duh._ “Does it matter? It’s here. At least for the moment.” He hadn’t exactly meant for his words to be a veiled threat, but he realized it sounded that way and didn’t correct himself. Luke stood. “Can I go? I need to get in a run before Lights Out since I’ll be cooped up all day tomorrow.”

“Go.” Narra waved his hand. “And tomorrow morning, stop by Command before you leave. I want to be certain that we haven’t acquired another ‘bug’. Thank you.”

“Anytime. Bugs are my specialty.” _Just like my dad has a specialty Bug!_ He paused, his hand on the door lever. No, he couldn’t stand it another minute! Luke looked partially over his shoulder at Narra. “It’s pronounced ‘exECutor’. _Apparently.”_

“Thank you for enlightening me.” Sir began to sigh, then caught himself. “You’re dismissed.”

He grinned. Mission accomplished. Sort of. Really, he was getting _good_ at this conspiracy stuff!

“I’m going to get a lung scan!” he announced to the room as he hurried through.

“Ask for a tranquilizer while you’re there,” Hobbie called.

“Sure, I’ll bring you whatever they have!” The door banged shut behind him.

The sky was beginning to darken into a deep blue. Luke paused for a moment, looking up at the stars that were starting to dot into existence. He took a deep breath even though the air was too wet and heavy to feel fresh.

“Oz!”

He tried to keep a frown off his face. This was... unexpected. “Oh. Leia. Uh, hi. Haven’t seen you in awhile.”

“I was on a mission for the Senate, then home for a couple weeks.” She tilted her head, looking at him quizzically. “I heard you’ve been gone too?”

“Uh, yeah.” He figured she still thought he was a spy. Maybe a double agent. Triple agent, whatever. “I can’t talk about it. So…. Where are you headed?”

“I’m leaving again in a few minutes.” She was dressed more like a soldier, if a soldier inexplicably and impractically wore white. Pants and shirt instead of her usual long floppy dress. “First I’m supposed to stop by Medical for a blood draw.”

No. Not seriously. He just _mentioned_ it and it was happening?! He should quit saying anything if the universe was conspiring against him. Or maybe the Force had a weird sense of humor. Or worse, Dead Yoda was interfering in his life. “Why do you need one?”

She shook her head. “Their excuse is that they don’t have a sample here, but it’s really an example of redundant, time-consuming protocol, because I know it’s on file somewhere. They don’t need another one.”

“Oh.” Luke thought fast. He coughed and cleared his throat a few times. “I’m headed there myself.”

“Are you all right?” Her dark eyes focused on him, and he felt mildly guilty for relying on her concern.

“I need a lung scan.” He coughed again and this time choked, swaying a little. “I was pretty badly injured on my last assignment.”

“Oz— Sit down and rest.” She led him to a nearby bench. “Can you make it to the med center?”

“Oh, uh… sure.” But he sounded doubtful enough that she frowned. “Sit with me for a minute while I catch my breath. Tell me what’s been going on with you. Why did you go home? For a visit?”

Leia didn’t look convinced of his wellness, but she sat next to him, their knees not quite touching. “Not exactly.” She rolled her eyes, and it was like seeing himself in a mirror. “My parents are being— Well, they think I should be promised to someone.”

“What?” He blinked. “Promised what?”

“You know. Like promised in marriage. In the future. The _far_ future.”

He was appalled. If she _was_ his sister, then his dad— _their_ dad— should be the one deciding— No, that wasn’t right either. “No one should decide for you. That’s like some _ancient_ custom!”

“That’s what I said!” Her hand rested on his arm. “But it’s not like they actually want me to marry. They believe that a political alliance with the ruler of an important neutral planet, even if it’s never… um, consummated… would be helpful to the Alliance.”

“That’s… sneaky.”

“Not really. It’s common practice in royal circles.”

 _Royal._ Luke also noted that it appeared she was the only one allowed to criticize her parents, and he understood the sentiment. “What if you’re _promised_ and you fall in love with someone else and refuse to go through with it? Wouldn’t that ruin the marriage alliance? Cause a diplomatic crisis or some kind of _royal_ snit?”

“See?!” she exclaimed. “You think exactly like I do! That’s what I told them. Although the likelihood of me falling for someone around here is ludicrous. No offense,” she added quickly. “I mean that I’m here for the Rebellion, not for pleasure.”

Huh. No reason not to combine the two, like duty and shopping. He coughed again to remind her that he was fragile. Her hand was still on his arm, which gave him an idea. “Do you like me?”

“I do, although I don’t know why.” She saw where he was looking and yanked her hand away. “Not like _that!_ Not romantically!”

Thank the Force! “Of course not.” He tried not to sound pleased. Although he was, because this was working out. “I have a brilliant idea.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“Tell your parents you’ve fallen in love with someone here. And even though you only see him occasionally, privately you’ve pledged yourself to him.”

“Who would that be?” She grimaced at his wink. _“Him?_ You mean… Dr. Andres?”

“What?” It was his turn to scowl. “Why would you think that? Do you have a crush on him?”

“Of course not! It’s— I only thought of him because I was on my way to see him.” But her face flushed.

“Uh-huh, sure. Well, he’s at least a _decade_ too old for you, and he dresses badly. Plus, he’s divorced. No one would believe that you were in love with him. Even if he is nice. And,” he added pointedly, “sort of cute in his own pathetic way.” 

“He’s…. Oh. I get it.” She gave him a little smile. “I can see who has the crush.”

Luke sighed. “No— Oh, never mind. Here’s my idea: you’re in love with me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I  _ know! _ But tell them you’re in love with a pilot named Oz— No, Sky Ozoner, Oz for short. That way you’re off the hook with them.” Plus, if Bail Organa found out at the Alliance Council meeting that he, Sky Ozoner, was actually him, Luke, the son of Darth Vader, and that he, Vader, was actually Anakin Skywalker and that she, Leia Organa, was actually (maybe) Leia Skywalker (but he, Bail, should already know that) (although he, Luke, was still not totally convinced) then Bail would know that they, Luke and Leia, were brother and sister and therefore shouldn’t be in love and he, Bail, would probably be furious at Luke, especially if he, Bail, ever thought that they, Luke and Leia, had...um,  _ consummated _ their friendship.

Which was a convoluted way of finding out if Bail knew Anakin Skywalker’s current (and soon to be former) identity as Darth Vader, but it suited Luke’s way of thinking just fine. And it was fun.

She was staring at him.

“Only if you get desperate,” he added.

She turned and looked into the distance, silent for a moment. “Actually… that might work.”

“At least they’d be off your back for awhile.” He cleared his throat and coughed. “I have to get to Med. But you can go first. I know you’re in a hurry.” He coughed harder.

“No, that’s all right. I see Captain Antilles.” She stood and lifted her hand to acknowledge the officer who was approaching. “Like I said, my bloodwork is on file somewhere.”

“Yeah.” Besides, if she ever needed blood, there were only two people who could donate. Maybe. So it wouldn’t be—

Damn. Captain Antilles had an official bloodsucker with him, the one who’d given Luke a hard time about his right thumb.

“Princess, we need to leave now to make the rendezvous.”

“I’ll take your blood, Your Highlyness,” the Cerean grumbled. “Right thumb.” The tiny vial filled with red (energy?) liquid. “I suppose now you want me to deliver it to Med. It’s not like I’m off duty or anything.”

“I’ll take it! I’m heading over there anyway.” Luke smiled.

The bloodsucker grunted, plugged the tube, and dropped it into his hand. “Good. Now maybe I can get back to my life.”

“You’re welcome!” Luke called brightly, grinning as the Cerean trudged away, dragging his feet like he’d spent a hard day running in place.

“Thank you,” Leia said politely while Captain Antilles tried to hustle her along. However, apparently no one actually hustled a princess.

“Have a safe trip.” He turned to the officer. “Are you related to Wedge Antilles?”

“No. Common name. Princess?”

“Bye, Oz.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. Then her lips grazed his mouth, presumably for the captain’s benefit. Hopefully. “Take care.”

“You too.” Like a pining lover, he watched them walk away, then slipped the blood vial into his pocket. Maybe he’d check it later. Or maybe he’d smash it. Or—

Better idea! He’d tell the med tech that it was his own blood!

_My brilliance surprises even me sometimes!_

“Fast worker, Luke.”

He turned to see Wes and Zev grinning at him.

Well. “Thanks. I try.” Anything that enhanced or confused his reputation was fine with him.

They left, heading for the bar. Or maybe the officers club. Or maybe simply a quiet spot to enjoy each other’s company. Whatever. Sighing, Luke headed for Med.


	6. Possibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke makes his maiden solo voyage for the Alliance and tries to decide what to do with Leia’s blood sample.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re curious: Luke’s route is here. https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Junction-Tierell_Loop/Legends

_“You should have offered this information immediately when you arrived on base.” Dr. Andres scowled at the read-out in his hand. “I would never have allowed a lung scan if I’d known there was any possibility you could have been pregnant.”_

_“What?” Luke blinked. “What? I— What?”_

_“This sample was taken yesterday. Hopefully you haven’t engaged in intercourse since then because you are ovulating and unprotected.”_

_“I’m what? You mean like...I’m laying eggs?”_

NO! Oh no no no no no! Possibility Number One on the list of reasons he shouldn’t turn in Leia’s blood sample as his own.

Luke finished stuffing clothes and protein bars in his pack and searched for a better potential scenario.

_“In case of emergency surgical intervention, our records must be updated to indicate that you have both female and male reproductive organs and are—”_

Uh, no. Surely they couldn’t learn that information from a simple blood sample. Unless Leia…. No, wait, this was all his imagination, it wasn’t real. Discouraged, he tried again.

_“Well, your organic/energy ratio has changed. You are now only 35% energy. Has something drained your Force powers?”_

Now that was something he could live with! There was no question that he was more powerful than Leia. He was his Father’s Son. _And_ he had a transfusion from his father!

Maybe he should ask his dad for another transfusion to get more Force, just to be sure.

But what if that’s not what the blood sample said? What if Leia had _more_ Force? No, no, that possibility wasn’t even in the same galaxy.

He could find no way to turn in Leia’s blood sample as his own without jeopardizing himself and revealing that he… well, that he had _stolen_ her blood sample. And he couldn’t even turn it in as _hers,_ because if they found out she was another hybrid, that would be in the records and he would have to learn how to hack the medical computer system and remove that information before anyone saw it. Except Dr. Andres would see it, and Luke would have to kill him. And maybe the entire healthcare staff. Which is what his father would do. But not Luke. Luke would—

_Sith-kriffin’-hell!_ What if his father found out about her blood and they actually _were_ related? No. Just… no. There was no solution to this problem except to ignore it for awhile and hope for another brilliant idea.

When he was dressed— overdressed— in all his armor, he tucked the blood tube in his suddenly useful leather wrap belt. The blood would come along on his assignment while he considered other options. Like Leia said, it was already on file—

Oh. Maybe he _did_ have to learn how to hack into computers. Unless the computer didn’t know what the “unknown” part of her blood meant.

Right! Of _course_ no one knew. They only knew about the Force because Luke had told them. There were probably billions of beings in the universe who had ‘unknown’ in their blood analyses. He’d only told Cris Andres. And General Rieekan and the two commanders. So if he didn’t mention it again—

Today was the day he would learn to keep his mouth shut. How hard could it be?

With his hood pulled over his face, people didn’t recognize him (or pretended not to) so he didn’t have to explain why he was dressed like a bounty hunter tracking prey. He headed straight to the hangar to stash his bag and helmet in Yahoo before checking in with Command. There was a small cargo ship that was parked slightly over its designated space, its wing edge blocking Yahoo. It would serve the pilot right if he snapped off the tip… but he’d probably end up being the one who would have to repair it. Fine. He’d just use the Force to nudge the thing over as soon as he dropped his stuff inside—

His bracelet snapped at him.

Luke halted. He inched closer to Yahoo. The stinging grew sharper. They were tracking his _ship?!_ They didn’t trust him after all he’d done for them? _Bastards!_

He took a few deep breaths and unsealed Yahoo, then walked up the ramp and dumped his belongings. The warning signal was much quieter here. Experimentally he closed the entry— and his bracelet went quiet.

Of course. They couldn’t gain entry to his magic ship, so they’d put a tracker on its hull. Luke exited and walked around Yahoo as he would for any normal pre-flight check. The tracker would have been unnoticeable without the zaps that shocked his wrist and increased in intensity until he reached the rear and saw the device attached behind a curved strut on the belly. Did they think he couldn’t sense a tracker in a wide-open space like this hangar?

His first reaction was to yank it off and crush it in his fist. His fingers clenched, but he took no action.

He could pull it off and storm into Command, demanding to know why they were tracking him.

Or he could attach it to another ship and confuse them when the tracking went somewhere they didn’t expect.

Which made him wonder: where _did_ they expect him to go?

Well, duh. Obviously the Executor. The ship was close enough that he could make a detour. _I’ll never be further than one hour away from you,_ his dad had said and parked himself at Vaal.

Did they think he wouldn’t complete his mission? Did they still wonder (not surprisingly, he supposed) about his loyalty? Or did they want to know if Darth Vader was on the Executor and calculated that if Luke took the Yavin Bypass to Vaal and wasn’t fired on by the Empire, it would confirm Vader’s location even if he didn’t stop at the ship.

There was only one option. He left the tracker in place and headed to Command to help them ensure (ironically) that they weren’t being monitored.

Narra leaned his chin on his hand, taking in the sight of his armor. “Expecting trouble?”

“I always expect trouble.” That was a line of his dad’s that bore repeating because it sounded _fierce._ He prowled needlessly around the room before declaring: “There’s no spy device here. You’re clean.”

“Good. Thank you. Are you ready to go?”

_No, I’m standing here, wearing this armor, it’s 0750, and that’s all a big coincidence._ “Yes.”

“Still determined to take your personal ship?”

“Yes.” He wished Narra would mention the tracker. Tell him that it was for his safety, only there in case he needed help. But the commander didn’t speak other than to say:

“It should take about three hours to get there. Have a safe trip. Be back by 1900.”

Luke nodded and left, wishing he didn’t feel disappointed. Although… maybe Narra didn’t know. Maybe Rieekan ordered it. Or even Boss. Or...maybe Whatshisname, the spy kid. Maybe it was actually his _dad_ tracking him.

Which didn’t make sense. His father didn’t need a device when they had their mental link.

Speaking of mental, he needed to slide that cargo ship over about two meters so he could get Yahoo out of its nook. He lowered Yahoo’s ramp, then looked around the hangar. Across the expanse was a pile of crates that looked badly stacked. There was no one around it, so he gave a mental push and the entire tower toppled over. Everyone in the hangar looked that way, many of them heading for the ‘crash site’.

Luke shoved the stubby ship like he had practiced in the Vjun castle. It was pretty simple really, and no one would notice the slight correction. And if someone did— so what? Maybe a hauler moved it. Or maybe it would remain a mystery without an explanation. Unless Commander Narra saw Luke and wondered.

Time to get the hell out of here. 

# # #

The Denarii Nebula sprawled between Yavin and Presbalin. He went straight through the far edge of it. He would’ve enjoyed a side excursion to Denarii Station to see what was there, but that would have lengthened the trip too much and he was in a hurry to explore Presbalin. Anyway, he really wanted to see what Yahoo could do. Just how much time could he cut out of the journey before he had to jump into the hyperspace loop?

Turned out, quite a lot! He was in Presbalin in under two hours. That gave him almost a full day to investigate the city, although what his dad said about Centralia didn’t sound promising. Maybe he would be bored. Maybe he would end up spending his entire day studying and being bored.

The loading crew looked properly impressed (and intimidated) by him, and Luke was glad he had worn the armor. He loved appearing _fierce._ At first he tried to brave the cold in the hangar, but finally broke down and got the poncho. He worried that it subdued his fierceness, but he still looked like a warrior that no one would want to confront. He monitored the loaders’ progress (slow) for a few minutes, then walked around the hangar to stretch his legs.

He looked around. Restless. He felt restless. Not his normal restlessness. It was more like something was… wrong. Something was here— or not here— that shouldn’t be, and he couldn’t suss out what it was. There was an emptiness. A chink in the galaxy. A blank spot, like a dark hole.

His heartbeat quickened. His mouth felt dry and he tried to swallow the fluttering in his throat. There was nothing and no one who could hurt him. He was strong. Invincible. Able to conquer any—

_Unless it was Palpatine._

_No no no._ That was not possible. He would _know._ His dad would _know._ They couldn’t be taken by surprise— No, that would never happen because they could lose everything. Lose _each other._ It had to be something else. Something… strange but nevertheless familiar.

Who or whatever it was, it was inside a shuttle that lurked in the farthest corner, silent. Obscured in this gloomy cavern of a bay, without even running lights to prevent another craft from hitting it. Ominous. Luring him. It—they— knew he was curious, that he would be pulled toward it like it was magnetized. Was it a trap?

The ramp was down. Luke stopped at the bottom, peering up. He didn’t recognize the design of the hull, not the curved viewscreen, not the retracted guns or the obvious torpedoes. It was a warship— or a well-armed luxury passenger vehicle. The difference was not evident.

There was something alive inside. He could sense _existence_ but not much else. It felt neither hostile or friendly; it was simply there. Was it a lifeform that was new to him? His fear coalesced into excitement. But he remained cautious. He slipped his hand under the poncho and curled it around the hilt of his lightsaber. He didn’t want to draw it, not yet, in case the being was harmless and would react badly to his aggression.

Luke took one step onto the ramp, then another. And another.

And one more. He reached the entry. It wasn’t huge inside, but he noted the rich textures of the interior walls and there was—

Someone. Behind. Him.

He swallowed and turned slowly.

And stared. _What…?_

It was a man and he was—

The Force exploded to life.

_“DAD?!”_

“Who else?” The voice was filtered through a vocoder, but it was different than the usual deep baritone. Familiar. A gentler tone that sounded more like his father without the helmet.

“I… _Dad…!”_

There was so much to see, he didn’t know how to absorb it all at once. Blue, multiple shades of blue. A dark blue shirt with billowy sleeves clipped in by two black metal bands at each bicep and wrist. A lighter blue knee-length tunic sashed with pleated black leather that wrapped around his waist and part of his chest, presumably protecting and disguising the life support panel. It was decorated with brushed gold symbols— Luke didn’t know what they were. Bars and a round medallion with a gold star in the center? Then a double leather belt that criss-crossed below the waist to hold weapons and the lightsaber (he assumed). Snug black leather gloves. And a cape— oh, the cape! It was huge and glorious and midnight blue and armorweave, secured on his dad’s shoulders by pauldrons set with golden stars, draping along his arms all the way to the floor. And there was a humongous hood that enveloped his shoulders and cascaded halfway down his back.

Luke’s mouth was hanging open unbecomingly. He knew it and didn’t care. There was a helmet— It was perfect! _He_ knew it was one of his dad’s regular helmets, but no one else would. The flared sides had been filed off. The entire thing was coated with metallic gold that had been burnished to dull the shine and inset with wide strips of black leather, molding his father’s head so it was wrapped all the way around in a perfect oval. A swirl swept across his mouth, disguising his vocoder and breathing apparatus. A translucent midnight visor shaded his eyes, revealing only enough to prove there was a person behind it, and above it was another metal visor that could be pulled down to hide even that knowledge.

“I….” Luke struggled for something to say. “You…. You’re taller than I expected, my lord.”

Vader laughed— he actually _laughed,_ and it _sounded_ like a laugh! “I couldn’t leave the ship appearing four inches shorter.”

“Yeah. Well….” He couldn’t stop staring. “Maybe you don’t need to be shorter after all. You look….”

“Fabulous?”

Luke grinned. “Exactly!” He took two steps before faltering. “Can I hug you? I don’t want to wrinkle anything. And… and you look so… _regal.”_

Vader held out his arms. With an exclamation of pure happiness, Luke fell into them. “Ooh, this is super soft!” He rubbed his face against the tunic and shirt. They were silky, but he could feel his dad’s armor underneath them. “I need this outfit, too! We should match.”

“As if I didn’t already know that,” his father scoffed.

“You got me something like this?!” Then, not wanting to appear greedy: “But nothing could be better than the surprise of seeing you!”

“I know.” Before Luke could roll his eyes, embarrassed by the sentiment, Vader added: “I feel the same way.”

_Awww…._ Luke melted a little deeper into the embrace, worming his head under the big cloak, hiding like a child. “I don’t know why I miss you when we meditate every day and pretend that we can touch each other. But this is different.”

“It is,” his father hummed contentedly, one hand holding his head while rocking him gently.

“Gold stars,” Luke murmured as he nuzzled, and got a mouthful of silk for a reward. He spit it off his tongue, hoping his dad didn’t notice. “Blue and gold stars like I dreamed about.”

“Yes.” His father hesitated, and a faint quiver rain through him. “I found that… maybe I enjoy making your dreams come true.”

He blinked a few times. “Me too,” he admitted shyly. _“Your_ dreams, I mean. I want you to be happy.”

“I am happier now than in any dreams I had before I found you.”

“Yeah.” This was getting too emotional, and he didn’t want his dad to cry. And maybe not himself either. “You scared me!” he accused. “You blocked your Force! I couldn’t feel you.”

“My son, I am so sorry, so terribly sorry that I distressed you. How can I expect you to ever forgive me?” His father pushed him back and placed one hand on his heart. “Please. I am, alas, filled with abject remorse for having deceived you.”

Luke tried to frown but couldn’t manage it. “That did not sound even remotely believable, Lord Vader. Keep your day job.”

“I fully intend to. Come.” One hand grasped the back of Luke’s neck as his father directed him to a seating alcove.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked eagerly. “We have _hours_ until I have to leave. Unless you don’t want me to leave. Well… I probably shouldn’t defect with their supplies. Plus I left all my clothes behind.”

“Fortunately I have new clothes for you, but they remain in the Executor. For when you join me.”

Luke tilted his head. “Uh… I wasn’t exactly serious. I mean… you know. Not yet. Right?”

A noncommittal chuckle was the response. “I brought along two items for you.”

Luke straightened. “Really? What?! Clothes like yours?”

“Do you seriously think clothing like this would be appropriate at your Rebel base?”

He felt scolded and pouted a little. “I guess not.”

“Good, we agree. Your new wardrobe will await you on the ship. But to tide you over until then….” Vader handed him a small box.

Bouncing slightly on the cushion, Luke opened it and held up— _“Gold gloves!”_ He rolled sideways, laughing, then righted himself and wriggled his fingers into the gloves, tugging and smoothing them up to his wrists. “They’re so soft.” He rubbed his hands against his cheeks.

“Yes. They are made from the hide of young shaaks.”

“Oh.” Like Berrie. Well… okay. “I love them, thank you for remembering!”

“More like ‘indulging’,” Vader rumbled, sounding like his old self for a moment. “Also, I see you already have a poncho, but it may not be warm enough for—”

Luke grabbed the package and ripped it open. Blue! Gold stars! He stood and yanked off the boring poncho and swirled the new one over his head, tugging it down. “It’s gorgeous!” It was heavy and velvety and lined with black armorweave, which he supposed he should expect all the time. There were three golden stars that ran atop one shoulder to his throat, acting as a closure.

“You may leave it for me to take back or you can keep it in Yahoo,” Vader suggested. “I know it’s too hot for Yavin.”

“Yeah, but it’s great for here! This is much warmer than the other one!” He stroked the sides, then dropped next to his father to throw his arms around him again. “Thank you, Dad!”

“You’re welcome, little one.”

That nickname used to irritate him, but now he understood how his father meant it. He would probably be his dad’s ‘little one’ even when he was _thirty!_ “How long can you stay? Can you stay all day? Can we do stuff?”

“We can do ‘stuff’,” Vader confirmed. “I have plans for us, and I want to talk to you about our future. And, because I know how needy you are, I will take you to lunch.”

“Great! And to the bank.” He added quickly, “I don’t need much, just enough for a few things at the base exchange, and it’s really hard to get credits from my account there.”

His father drew back. “Surely you haven’t tried that?”

“No. Should I not?” He tugged at the poncho uncertainly. “The commanders said it would work, but that the exchange rate wasn’t good.”

“I’m sure it isn’t,” Darth Vader said dryly. “Now let us check up on your loading crew and then satisfy your stomach, because I am certain that is the source of the loud noises I am hearing.”

Luke wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, sorry. Where are we going? What kind of food do they have here? Have you been here before? You said the shopping district wasn’t—”

“Stop chattering,” his father instructed as they descended the ramp. “Remember that you are _fierce.”_

Yeah! Fierce Sky Ozoner Laze Loneozner Luke Lars Skywalker-Vader! Which reminded him: “I’m Sky Ozoner on this trip.”

“Of course you are.”

Luke decided he only imagined that his father sighed.

# # #

UPDATE: OMG SkywalkingOnSunshine drew this gorgeous image. Amazing! I left my sad drawing below so everyone can see how a Real Artist (not me!) draws. Thank you, thank you!!! 😘

Disclaimer: I can’t draw figures, so I took the shapes from an even-dummies-can-draw site. Poor Luke doesn’t look nearly as *fierce* beside his dad and wearing his new fluffy blue poncho over his armor. (Color pencils & Sharpies)


	7. Inclement Weather Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither snow nor ice will stop father and son from exploring the town, and Vader has a surprise for his boy. Everything is going great… until….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have set an all-time personal best record for the use of ellipses in this chapter… or not….

“This is not what I expected.” Luke slapped his thick glove on the surprisingly hard surface. “It’s like a rock. I thought snow would be softer.”

“It is. This has been removed from the walks and roads and stacked. Over time it has compressed and hardened into ice.” His father pressed his palm against the wide mass.

“Huh.” It was pretty, sort of, because some of it was turquoise, but he’d expected something different. It was bad enough that it was _freezing_ here but now there wasn’t even real snow.

“Don’t fret. There’s a snow sky today.” Vader responded to his questioning look by pointing up. “You see the clouds? They are heavy and swollen, pregnant with snow.”

Oh, sure, _pregnant._ Surreptitiously he reached under the poncho to touch his wrap belt, ensuring that Leia’s blood sample was still safely tucked in. “Looking forward to it!” He sent a dazzling, distracting smile to his father in case Vader had noticed his gesture. “You’re right about the shopping district. It’s nothing like Coronet City.”

“Nothing,” Vader echoed as he did that new hand-on-the-back-of-Luke’s-neck thing, which was mildly disconcerting because the grip was tight.

Still… he didn’t mind.

They walked slowly for a few blocks and halted on an arched bridge. Luke hoped there was ice with skaters below, but it was only a wide gorge.

“Look.” Vader pointed to the right. “They’re sledding.”

“Wow!” There was snow that looked SOFT! And those kids were _daredevils!_ “I sledded sometimes on sand dunes, but this is so steep! Awesome!”

“You’re not doing that, it’s too dangerous.” 

_Yeah, too dangerous for Luke Skywalker... unlike facing down Darth Sidious, which should be easy-breezy._

His father rested his arms on the railing, peering down intently.

“And you’re not gonna jump, Dad! I can see that you want to try it.” They shared grins even though Luke couldn’t actually see it through the mask. Vader snorted but didn’t move from his position.

“Dad? Have you— I mean, do you—” How should he phrase it? He bit his lip.

“What are you trying to ask?” The gaze focused briefly on him, then returned to the kids who were sledding. Even from this distance, their shrieks of terrified delight could be heard.

Luke imitated his dad’s position and leaned his arms on the barrier. It felt cold through his poncho. “How often do you— Do you _ever_ go out like this? I mean in civilian clothes, when you can be a regular person, not just… just The Suit?” There was no one nearby, but he didn’t want to chance saying _Darth Vader_ aloud.

His father’s gaze remained fixed to the distant scene. Wasn’t he going to answer? Did the question hurt? Luke was sorry that he’d asked.

“I haven’t. Not since… ‘the suit’.”

Luke inhaled and swallowed. If he cried, his tears would freeze, so he wouldn’t. “Oh.” He _knew_ his dad’s suit was also his prison, but the reality made his heart twist. To never be free, to never see and hear and—

And even dressed like this, his dad still couldn’t see or hear like everyone else. The suit was only disguised, not banished.

He leaned his head against Vader’s shoulder. _Anakin._ “We should do this more often,” he muttered awkwardly, aware of the cliche, but he couldn’t stop repeating the request. “I mean… let’s do it. We’re close together, and you’re the boss so you can leave whenever you want. We can— we can leave clothes in our ships so we can go places impulsively.”

“That would be nice.” His dad shifted and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, but kept staring at the scene below. “And, oddly enough, that is precisely what we’re doing today.”

“Yeah. Thank you for that!” Luke wondered if everything looked red to his father— or weren’t the red lenses under the new visor? Because it appeared blue. Maybe his dad saw purple. “We can go places you went a long time ago. Or— no, better yet, _new_ places that we can both explore. Like this.”

There was no reply. Luke could feel his father’s mood slipping into melancholy. “Why didn’t you go anywhere, Dad? You could have.”

The blue hood shimmered under the clouded sun as his dad shook off Luke’s grip and turned around, leaning his back against the railing. “There was nowhere I wanted to go.” The arms crossed. “And I no longer had anyone to share the experiences.”

Luke understood his cue. “Until now. You have me and I want to go places with you. And Dad,” he added, “after your surgery, you won’t need as much of the—the suit. You’ll be freer. And we’ll keep healing everything and one day soon you’ll be totally free again.”

He didn’t flinch as one arm unfolded and the big glove came up to his face. The forefinger brushed across the tip of his nose before the arm draped around his shoulder again. “Child. You’re a dreamer.” But the feelings emanating from Vader were lighter. “Let’s feed you.” 

“Okay.” He smiled, relieved. “Hey, do I still look fierce when you’re towering over me and we’re practically hugging?”

“You look like the fierce son of a fierce father.”

“Yeah.” He smirked as he noted that the crowds parted around them as they walked down the center of the sidewalk. “Where are we going?”

“We are going here.”

“Where’s here?” All he saw was black plexi— or maybe it was real glass. Whatever it was, he couldn’t see anything through it. The door was flush with the wall and barely noticeable. “What is this place?”

“It’s a restaurant. A place that provides food.” His dad sounded amused.

“Whoa!” Luke halted. “Dad!” He looked around and lowered his voice. “I’ve never been in a restaurant.”

“Never?” His father’s head twisted toward him. “What about when you went to the spa? Or when you and Your Friend Wes went on a shopping spree with my credits? You didn’t stop shopping long enough to eat?”

Luke rolled his eyes. “No, we didn’t eat, we were too busy! And that time at the spa— they kept giving me snacks. And stop saying ‘Your Friend Wes’. He’s not my friend anymore.”

“What? What has he done?” Vader demanded. “Has he hurt or insulted you?”

“No, I didn’t mean—” Aggravated, Luke clicked his tongue. “He and Zev are a couple. I think. I’m not sure. But when I talk to one of them, the other is always there hovering.”

“I see. Very well. I’m not surprised. So a restaurant is a new experience for you. Be brave.”

He groaned heavily. “I’m not scared! But I might not know what to order. Except pie.”

“Pie is extremely unlikely. In the meanwhile,” Vader swiped to open the seamless door, “get inside. And,” he added, “if it’s any reassurance, I haven’t been in a restaurant since before your birth so this is a nearly new experience for me also.”

No reassurance at all! _Dad— don’t kill anyone!_

That was morbid and partly serious and shouldn’t be funny to him, but it was and he giggled. His dad poked him in the arm.

It was dark inside. Very dark. All black with little flickering lights here and there like the fireflies on Yavin… except they didn’t move. Obviously his dad would like this decor. His feet sunk into thick carpet, and he felt guilty for wearing big boots and armor. “I’m not dressed for this.”

“Foremost, they care about credits.”

An elegant Kaminoan glided toward them. “Greeting, gentlebeings. Do you have a reservation?”

His father didn’t deign to respond to the inquiry. “We will have that table there.”

As near as Luke could tell, he was pointing somewhere right in front of what appeared to be yet another black wall. As his eyes adjusted, he could see those were small luminaires on widely-spaced tables, not fireflies. How did anybody see their food?

“I’m sorry, sir. I have just seated—”

“Move them.” The command might have been more effective via Darth Vader’s helmet, but Luke was pretty impressed with how it came out anyway.

The host hesitated, then: “Certainly, sir. Please give me a moment to relocate them.”

“Did you use the F-o-r-c-e?” Luke asked in a low voice.

“I didn’t need to. People know authority when they hear it.”

“You gotta teach me how to do that.”

“You already know. You simply need more confidence in your strengths. But why,” his father inquired under his breath, “did you spell ‘Force’?”

“I was being discreet! I didn’t want to say it out loud.” He ignored his father’s answering sigh. What was it about him that made people sigh? First Narra, now his dad. And maybe a few other people in his life….

The seated party vanished like they’d never been there, and their place settings were swept away and replaced. Barely a minute passed before father and son were seated. “I _really_ am not dressed for this. And I’m hot. And if I take off the cape, I’ll look even worse in this bounty-hunter getup. And it’s so dark and it doesn’t look like anybody’s eating, they’re all going to look at me instead of—”

“Today’s menu, gentlebeings.” A second Kaminoan presented hand-scripted cards.

“I thought menus would be bigger too,” Luke muttered. “First snow, now menus. Nothing is how I imagined it— not even _you!_ But I love your clothes,” he clarified when his father tilted his head. “And _you!_ But what is this _wall?_ There’s no view! I thought we’d see snow. Am I complaining too much?”

“You’re becoming hangry. What do you want to eat?”

Luke looked at the menu. “I can’t understand this.” He jumped when the Kaminoan said over his shoulder:

“Would you prefer the Basic Aurebesh menu, sir?”

“No,” Vader said sharply, then addressed Luke. “Move the luminaire closer.”

That wouldn’t help his problem, but he sensed that the question had offended his father. “That’s better,” Luke lied as he moved the light. After his dad waved away the server, he whispered, “I can _read_ High Standard, I meant that I don’t know the words. Are these foods?”

When his dad looked up from his menu but didn’t reply, Luke was flustered. “Okay, obviously they’re foods, but I don’t know what they _are.”_

“I will order for you.” Vader put the card aside. “Don’t be embarrassed. The menu and the staff are pretentious, but LeKauf researched and reported that the food has received excellent reviews.”

LeKauf? “He’d better be right,” he replied darkly. “Don’t forget to order pie.”

The server returned and his dad rattled off the order, none of which Luke understood. “What did you get?”

“No pie. I ordered an assortment of main courses and delicacies so that your education may be furthered.”

“Great. So I’ll know what to order when I go to a fancy restaurant?” He’d meant to be sarcastic, but realized immediately that it was a good idea. “Thanks! Will you be able to eat too?”

“Yes. Moderately, of course. And cautiously. I altered the entire mask, but I do not wish any of my face to be seen. Except by you, of course.”

The addition pleased him. “Of course.”

They sat in companionable silence until the server returned with beverages. “Is this caf?” he whispered.

“Not for you,” his dad replied, raising his face covering to reveal only his mouth. He sipped from the steaming cup. “You don’t need it. The caf is for me so I can keep up with you today.”

Luke’s drink was… some kind of vegetable juice? He was disappointed, but it tasted okay. “Let’s talk about your—” His words stopped because the black wall next to them began to sparkle. “What—? Dad? What’s happening?”

“You’ll see,” his father answered, acting a bit Darth Mysterioso himself.

The sparkles turned into a galaxy created of white glitter dots that twinkled. A bunch of dots swirled together, curling round and round until they formed one big spot. Soft music reached his ears and Luke leaned forward to press his forehead on the glass, trying to see what was happening.

“Relax.”

He shot a scolding look at his dad. _“Relax?_ Seriously? This is so… _cool!”_

“Just wait.”

“For wh…. Oh….”

A figure appeared in the light. It was a— “An ice skater?” Luke exclaimed too loudly. Someone at another table laughed, but everyone was watching the— “That’s _ice_ down there!” he hissed. “It’s shiny!”

He covered his mouth with his hand because— wow, because there were _two_ beings and they were skating _together! At the same time! Matching each other step for step!_ “Dad! Do you see that?!”

His father didn’t answer, and Luke could feel he was equally entranced, and he really wanted to see his dad’s expression behind the mask, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the pair who were gliding across the huge expanse of ice while the bright light followed and haloed them amid the sparkles. They were Kaminoans, long-limbed and unbelievably graceful. One of them wore white fabric tails that were sheer and billowed behind them.

He was completely mesmerized and hoped they would never stop skating. No, not skating—they were _floating!_ At least that’s what it looked like. They jumped and threw each other, spinning and flying. They were better than the skater on the holo, it was nothing he’d ever seen, and he felt like he couldn't breathe.

Until they stopped minutes later and the sparkles died and everything turned black again. He took a shaky breath and looked at his dad, speechless for once.

“Your platters, gentlebeings.”

The display of food didn’t quite register for a moment. Luke gawked at his father. “That was _amazing.”_

“Yes.” His father removed his gloves carefully and placed them on the table. “It reminded me….”

“Of?” Luke prodded, starving but reluctant to start eating until his dad got his words together.

“Padme would dance with me sometimes in the evenings. When we were alone. Later. I mean… after.”

Okay, he wasn’t touching that ‘after’ with a three-meter pole. But since it couldn’t mean ‘after The Suit’, he supposed it meant after… um…. Well, obviously his parents had had sex, but he didn’t want to hear about it or risk painting a picture in his mind.

“She had a dress… it moved like that when I spun her.”

Well, at least she was wearing clothes. Luke sighed. “It must have been beautiful. I mean, _she_ must have looked gorgeous.”

“Yes. And I meant after we were _married,_ young one.” His dad roused himself. “Ask Kodra for dancing lessons. He’s capable, and you should learn. It will also add to your grace with the lightsaber. Now I’ll teach you about the food as you try each one.”

Lessons. Everything was a lesson. At least this one involved food. “Are there going to be more skaters?”

“Yes. Try this.” Vader picked something that looked like lumpy mush on a cracker and held it over the table. Luke caught it between his teeth, and his father tsk’d. “I meant for you to _take_ it, not eat out of my hand.” But he was chuckling, and Luke smiled at him as he chewed.

“It’s good! We _definitely_ have to do this more often.” He wished he didn’t have to go back to the Alliance. “Is there an ice arena on the ship?” Luke hoped his dad noticed how careful he was not to say ‘Executor’ or anything that would reveal their identities.

“You’re not serious. Try the striped one, it’s meat from a frilagoe.”

Whatever that was. “Of course I’m serious.” After a cautious nibble, he stuffed the rest of it in his mouth. “It’s spicy. Good! So don’t you have a cold storage for food or… you know… casualties?”

“You are suggesting that there should be a skating rink for you in the ship’s morgue?”

“Not just for me! Why, would that be weird? What’s this one?” It was green and stringy. “I mean, it would be quiet and I wouldn’t disturb anyone with my practicing. And other people might want to skate.”

The wall began to morph into glitter again and Luke turned toward it. For the next hour they alternated between food lessons and watching what he considered to be unworldly displays of grace. They were mostly Kaminoans, a few other species, and then one young male human who was small like him. Blonde like him. He could imagine it _was_ him skating with enviable power and grace. And wearing a fabulous stretchy black shirt with a wave of crystals extending from the right shoulder to the left hip.

“Of course you want that,” his father observed before Luke could proclaim his longing.

When the show ended, the server, with an exaggerated show of discretion, placed a small datafolder on the table in front of Vader. “Gentlebeings. I trust you enjoyed the performances and everything was to your liking.”

“Indeed.” With his forefinger, his dad pushed it toward Luke. “Lunch is on you,” he said with a hint of mischief in his voice.

 _Good thing I’m rich!_ Luke responded as he looked at the damage. _Wow! I could buy a month of pies with this—no, THREE months!_

“But joking aside,” he added quietly, “thank you for this day. You’re the best father anyone could have.”

Vader shook his head. “I wish that were true. But it isn’t and it will never be the case.”

“It’s true for me,” he whispered, then focused on entering his account in the folder because he couldn’t handle any more emotion right here in public.

Especially after his dad briefly rested his hand atop Luke’s fingers.

# # #

He studied the sky as they walked slowly back to the docking bay. Apparently the snow wasn’t birthing for awhile yet because the clouds still looked pregnant.

Of course, because the universe had it out for him— or for _both of them—_ as soon as he thought that thought, something white began falling from those clouds.

“Hey, look, it’s snow— OW! Ow ow ow! What’s that?!” Pellets like pistol shots were smacking into him. “Snow isn’t supposed to _hurt!”_

“It’s hail.” His dad pulled him under the shelter of a shop entrance where they could watch others scurrying to flee the attack.

“Hail,” Luke repeated resentfully. Little balls pelted the sidewalk, and some of them _bounced_ and hit their legs while they cowered in the doorway. “It’s _ice!_ What the hell, Dad!? I just wanna see _snow!_ This _hurts!”_

“Oh, for— It doesn’t hurt, you’re wearing armor. Stop being so dramatic.”

He gasped. Of all people—! “That’s like telling a bantha not to—”

“Do not make an unfortunate comparison.”

“—do something unfortunate in the dunes,” he finished, then turned his face away from the evil hail. There were sparkly decorations in the shop window. “Hey! It’s another Toodoodles! Let’s go in here!”

Darth Vader sighed like he’d been asked to perform some terrible task, like tap dancing for the Imperial Court’s enjoyment. 

“Pleeeeease,” Luke wheedled, then beamed when his father gave in.

“You sound like a toddler. However... very well. We need to get out of this weather. Which will not last long!” his dad threatened like the weather would obey him.

After a withdrawal of credits from the in-store kiosk and filling a bag of treats for the guys (and a stuffed varactyl for Porkins) (and two purchases that he had to hide from his dad because he bought himself a Darth Vader plushie that his father probably wouldn’t approve of, plus a long silky blue scarf for his dad that maybe wasn’t the greatest quality but it was the best they had) he wandered around the store until he found his dad waiting by the door. With a bag in his hand.

“What did you buy? Something for me?”

“No, something for _me.”_

“Really?” _That_ was a surprise, and a welcome one. “Good for you! I thought you didn’t like shopping.”

“Luke, I haven’t been inside a store since….”

“You’re in a store now.” But… he scolded himself for his insensitivity. For all his power and glory, Vader had been isolated from normal activities for as long as Luke had been alive.

“It’s all right,” his dad said, reading his thoughts. “The weather has cleared. Let’s go.”

 _It really isn’t all right, but we’re going to change that._ “My hair is about long enough to cut, don’t you think?” He followed his father out to a sidewalk that was slippery and sloppy with ice. “Be careful!”

“Thank you.” Vader grabbed his arm to steady both of them, although Luke figured it was only an excuse to grab his arm. “Yes, we will cut your hair at… the place where….” _After you check on your supplies, we’ll go to my ship where we can talk privately._

“Okay.” They entered the docking bay and Luke stared. “Hey! Are they done? How can Yahoo be loaded already? It was supposed to take hours!”

“Three hours, sir,” one of the workers offered. “That’s our standard. Here’s your manifest.”

 _Come when you’re finished,_ Vader said before striding to his own ship. Luke scanned the list and matched the shipments in the cargo hold. They’d really crammed everything into the limited space. “Good work,” he told them, surrendering some of his credits as tips. Obviously he should’ve gotten more cash.

Commander Narra had thought it was a three-hour trip each way, for a total of six hours in transit. And he wasn’t due back until 1900, so he’d been given five hours of extra free time, and Yahoo had saved him even more time. Luke smiled a little. Despite telling him not to, Narra knew he would explore.

He locked up Yahoo and hurried over to meet his dad. “I have about four hours before I have to leave.”

“I’m glad you’ve become so conscientious. What route did you take to get here?”

“As direct as possible. To Torque, then got on the Loop at Trinovat. You were right about Yahoo being fast. It only took two hours. Narra said it would be three.”

“Hmm. Tell him it took three.” Vader sealed the door behind him. “I thought you might have taken the Bypass near the Executor. You know you’re safe in Imperial space.”

“Yeah, well…. I didn’t want to go near your ship because I found a tracker on Yahoo. I left it on because I figured it’s the Alliance’s… not yours?”

“Not mine. I have other ways of tracking you, child of mine.”

“No kidding! But that means they’ll know how long my trip took. And how super-fast Yahoo is. And do you know they pronounce ‘Executor’ wrong?” Luke answered the humor with a grin and pulled off his gloves, struggling to stuff them into his waist wrap. “They say— Oops!”

Something clattered to the floor. Before he could register what it was, Vader had it in his hand and was holding it up.

“What is this?”

“It’s….” Luke scrambled for answer. “It’s….”

“Is this _blood?”_ Vader scrutinized the vial. “Why? What is it for? Are you ill?”

Sithspit. “No! I’m just— They do a blood draw for identification purposes! Any time any of us go anywhere.”

“That’s a lot of ‘anys’. I sense deception.”

What? “You can’t _sense_ deception!” he protested as a diversion. “Can you? Can I? I don’t know how! Can you show me?”

“Luke. What is wrong? Son, I repeat— _are you ill?”_

“No! I— I just—” What could he say that would stop Vader’s questions? “It’s _private!”_

“You have no privacy from _me!”_ his dad growled.

“I do too! It’s personal!” Desperate, he grabbed for something he’d overheard in the med center. “I— I’m just checking because maybe I have a… a sexually transmitted disease!”

The words bounced against the walls of the ship and seemed to keep echoing. Luke wished they would stop. However, they seemed to have done the trick because Darth Vader was stricken into silence.

Until he began to laugh. And laugh.

“Dad!” Indignant, Luke swiped at the vial, but his father held it over his head. “That’s not funny!”

“It is!” The laughter turned into coughing that alarmed Luke for a moment before it subsided back into chuckles. “Oh, Luke…. I can think of no one….”

“No one _what?_ Oh, never mind, I don’t want to know!” He folded his arms and pouted. “It’s mine. Give it back.”

“I’ll have a scan run to be certain you don’t have… anything.” His father was having far too much fun with this— until he wasn’t. Vader sobered. “Son, be serious. What are you hiding from me?”

Oh, Sith-be-damned when the ‘son’ word was used! Luke scowled and didn’t reply.

Vader hesitated, then lowered the vial and studied it. “Is it not yours? Is it someone else’s blood?” His voice was gentle.

Luke bit his lip. He couldn’t find an acceptable answer without lying, and he didn’t want to lie to his dad. “It’s not your business.” Which— krit!— was a lie but he didn’t mean it! “I… it’s not… I mean….”

“Luke.” His father placed the vial on a console and studied him for several extremely long seconds before exercising his talent of asking horrible, irreversible, awful questions: “Is it Leia’s blood?”

# ## #

I added the illo below to Chapter 6, but in case you missed it, here it is again (and I love it so much that I’m adding it to every chapter when either or both of them wear these clothes!). **SkywalkingOnSunshine** drew this gorgeous image. Amazing! Thank you, thank you!!! 😘


	8. Righteous Indignation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Vader have an emotional confrontation and secrets are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //To recap, here’s the closing scene of the previous chapter//
> 
> Vader hesitated, then lowered the vial and studied it. “Is it not yours? Is it someone else’s blood?” His voice was gentle.
> 
> Luke bit his lip. He couldn’t find an acceptable answer without lying, and he didn’t want to lie to his dad. “It’s not your business.” Which— krit!— was a lie but he didn’t mean it! “I… it’s not… I mean….”
> 
> “Luke.” His father placed the vial on a console and studied him for several extremely long seconds before exercising his talent of asking horrible, irreversible, awful questions: “Is it Leia’s blood?”

“What?” Luke blurted an automatic response before the question had sunk in. Once it did, he asked more coherently: “What? Who? What?”

“Luke.” His name was spoken softly, but it was chastising and made him squirm. “Is this Leia Organa’s blood?”

“What? Who? Why would it be _her_ blood?” He looked around the cabin. “Hey, nice setup you’ve got here! We should take this thing out for a spin. Or— you know, we have to talk about your surgery. Have you scheduled it? Because I intend to be there for the entire—”

“Luke.” This time the tone was stern. “Stop your obvious and childish attempts at distraction. What are you doing with Leia’s blood?”

 _What do you think— that I’d be drinking it??_ “I…. She _kissed_ me!” That drew a slight motion from his father, almost a recoil.

 _“Kissed_ you?”

“Yes! So I wanted to be sure… well, to be sure that...um….”

“You thought she might be _diseased?”_ Was that _horror_ in Vader’s voice? Seemed like an overreaction.

“No, just….”

“Or _PREGNANT?”_

_“What?_ Geez, Dad!” Okay, that was _definitely_ an overreaction. “No! I haven’t— I mean, _we_ haven’t— I mean, we don’t like each other that way! We’re just friends.”

“That had better be the truth,” his father scolded harshly, then turned to the front viewport and subsided into familiar brooding silence.

Luke looked out there, too, so they were both staring at the bare wall of the hangar like it was the most fascinating sight since… well, since ice skaters. “I got you a present,” he offered timidly. “I mean… of course, it’s your money, but I picked it out.” He grabbed the bag and waved in front of his father’s face. “It’s not… you know… it’s not much, but….”

Vader took the bag and looked inside. He pulled out the length of fabric. “What is it?”

Luke clicked his tongue. “Don’t be clueless! It’s a scarf! Here, give it to me! Bend down.” He draped it around his dad’s neck, threw one end over his shoulder, and fiddled with the folds. “See? Very dramatic and cavalier— like _you._ And it perfectly coordinates— well, almost perfectly— with your tunic.”

Vader fingered the fringed edge. “So it does. Thank you, Son.”

“You’re welcome.” He felt worse about lying when his father was being nice. “What did _you_ buy?”

“A holo album.” Vader gestured to the large package, but didn’t show it off.

“For snaps? Cool! We should have a snap of us on vacation. Now, I mean. While we’re here. All dressed up.” Was he talking too fast?

“I already have some.”

Well, that figured. He looked around for the camera. Maybe his dad was wearing it. Maybe all those gold stars on his clothes were actually cameras.

“Bug, be honest with me.”

Sith-hell. With a sigh of defeat, he picked up the blood vial, then hoisted himself onto the console. His legs didn’t quite touch the deck. “I…. Well, I said I would take it to Medical because she had to leave, but I stole it because I didn’t want the Alliance to test it just in case….”

“In case of what?” His dad joined him and perched on the counter’s edge. Of course _his_ feet rested easily on the deck. Thankfully the console could hold their weight. Although a structural collapse might be a welcome distraction.

“Uh….” Luke wanted to say every curse he knew, but he tried not to even _think_ them because his father would hear. He moaned in theatrical agony, like his entire reserve of oxygen was about to explode out of his lungs. “I should brush my teeth.”

“Enough! Luke.” _That_ was definitely the sound of waning patience.

“Fine!” he snapped. “I wanted to see if she was— if she had— if the Force—” Apparently he had more air left because an exasperated groan was ripped from him. “Because we have the same _birthdays!_ And we’re the same _age!_ And she was _adopted!_ And— and— I wondered if…. I don’t know! Don’t be mad at me!”

“You wondered if she was your twin sister.”

Now there was no air at all, either within or without him. His body shuddered unexpectedly like he’d struck land after falling a great distance.

“She is.”

He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. The ship was— No, _everything_ was moving and tilting and he couldn’t— he couldn’t—

“Put your head down.” A tight grip on his skull forced it forward. “Down. Between your knees.” Another hand, pressing on his back, cold. “You can breathe. You’re fine. Slowly, Luke. One breath at a time.”

The hands were firm. Comforting. Scary. He tried to obey the voice, _breathe in breathe out slow down one at a time_ but it was hard and he couldn’t concentrate and he slammed his fist into his chest because maybe he was dying. Everything inside ached. Minutes dragged as he gasped. Long minutes. Like hours. Possibly days. Weeks. Maybe even months—

“Stop that. You’re fine. Calm yourself.” The hand left his neck and covered his mouth and pinched half his nose closed. He struggled, but surrendered immediately when his dad said, “This will help. Remember when I cured your hiccups? Just breathe normally.” 

_Okay. But Dad… don’t hate me._

“Son. You’re fine. I didn’t mean to—”

He burst into tears. His father made an odd sound, then reached somewhere and shoved a piece of cloth against his face.

“I know you don’t want to blow your nose on our new clothes.”

 _What?_ “How can—?” All right, it was true, but how could his dad even _think_ of that right now? “How did—”

Tentatively he sat up. His breathing was still shaky, but the ship wasn’t moving around him any longer. He sobbed a few more times and hiccuped and tried to inhale but couldn’t, so he blew his nose and wiped his eyes. Maybe he should have done the last two the other way around. He blew his nose again, then threw the soggy cloth on the floor and glared at it.

“Is that a _rag?_ Did you shove a _RAG_ in my face?!”

“Luke—”

“Don’t ‘Luke’ me! Do you mean that _all this time_ you _knew?_ ” Now everything was sinking in and he was angry. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long have you known? Why did you make me _suffer_ and _worry?!_ _Why didn’t you tell me?_ What the—?! Oooooooh, I’m so _MAD_ at you!”

“You’ll get over it. And how would I know that you had such a suspicion?” Vader was beginning to sound crabby. Luke tried to slide off the counter, but his dad commanded: “Stay right where you are. You’re not steady yet.”

Luke scowled and folded his arms. “You had better have a damn good explanation for this— this _atrocity!”_ Okay, maybe it didn’t compare to Darth Vader’s usual atrocities, but this was more serious than the usual ones— this was _personal!_

“Very well.” His father rose and stalked aft, made a frustrated gesture with both hands, then dropped onto the cushioned bench with a thud like he was physically exhausted. “On Dantooine, when you—”

 _“Dantooine?!_ Are you _kidding?_ That was _forever_ ago!”

“No it was barely over a year ago. If you want answers, don’t interrupt.” Vader waited for his sullen assent before continuing, “When you told me you met her, you said she felt Force emanations and—”

“No, I didn’t! _You_ said that!”

“If you want to know, then be _ALL EARS!”_ Vader bellowed.

“Then get it right and stop trying to intimidate me!” Luke retorted. “You’re avoiding—”

“No. _You_ are the one who doesn’t want to listen. _Shut. Up.”_

He was shocked into silence. For two seconds. “That’s not very nice! Some role model _you_ are! Huh. But fine, go on.”

“I researched her history and her birthdate. She went on a mission, I captured her. I took her blood and ran a genetic test. I learned the truth… that she, like you, had been stolen from me.”

Luke rubbed his forehead. “Then you let her go?”

“Not exactly. Do you not remember? The Alliance insisted that I trade her for you and there wasn’t time to—”

“WHAT?” The Alliance _made_ him trade? “You mean you thought about keeping _her_ instead of _ME?”_

“I did not say—”

“Then I _am_ a hostage! One of the guys said that but I didn’t believe—”

“You are _not_ a hostage. It was simply an unfortunate circumstance of timing—”

 _“Unfortunate!?_ That’s all you can— Hey, hold it! You mean when the Death Star— Wait!” That had been a horrible day, it was a struggle to recall what things had happened in what order. “You were going to let the Death Star destroy the Rebel base to lure Palpatine away from Coruscant so he’d go on the Star’s next mission to gloat and then you’d have me destroy it with the plans that you hid in my lightsaber.”

“It was a good plot. One of my better ones.” Vader shrugged. “Except the Rebels wouldn’t return you without the trade. Then you refused to go with Captain Jovay, and I feared that if I attacked the base or sent another team to extract you, you would foolishly decide to fight with your new friends. Which, may I add, you did.”

Luke shrugged off the disapproving look that he couldn’t see but sure could hear. “Yeah. But you could’ve let that TIE shoot me instead of attacking it yourself. You _let_ me destroy the Star!”

“I didn’t have a choice right then. I could have disabled your ship and towed it, but there were so many fighters, I couldn’t risk your being injured or killed.”

He considered what his dad said and realized that something important was being left unsaid. “If I had obeyed you and backed off the attack,” he clarified slowly, “the base would have been destroyed. And maybe the whole planet.”

“Yes.”

His father’s new mask was a marvel, but it hid too much. Vader’s personal shields raised, and Luke couldn’t read him very well. “Then Leia would have been killed.”

“Yes.” Leather creaked as Vader clenched his fists. “Luke… sometimes we face difficult choices, even some that seem impossible. Compassion is frequently the wrong path, particularly in warfare. At that moment I had to choose one child over the other. I chose you.”

“Oh.” To his own ears, his voice sounded very small and far away. “It was… but when Leia and I were born, you chose Palpatine over us.”

“I didn’t—” The fists released and his father slumped slightly. “I suppose that’s true.”

He could feel his dad’s remorse and didn’t like it. Too often his dad got caught in a death spiral like the skaters, revolving around self-hatred and unable to shake himself free. “But on Dantooine, you chose the opposite. You chose your children over yourself. You saved us instead of freeing yourself from Palpatine.”

“I….” The older man was quiet.

Luke stayed silent, letting the reality sink into his dad’s brain.

“I… suppose that’s true, too.”

Accepting happiness might always be hard for his dad. But he was getting better at it. “You had a choice that day, and you made the right one.”

Vader snorted. “I never make good choices.”

“Yeah, you do! Look, you got me, right? And I like you, so you’re doing something right.”

“Or perhaps you’re doing something wrong.”

“Ack!” Luke shook his head. He intended to tease, but this moment called for something more. Like maybe _honesty._ “Dad, be _all ears_ for a minute. I’m trying to tell you that… my heart is… I mean, I have all this love for you inside me, so much that I can’t hold it all. You have to take some. Accept it. You love me, and it’s okay to love yourself too. You don’t have to be what people expect you to be.” He blinked rapidly, wishing he hadn’t tossed the rag on the floor. “Except for me. You have to be what I expect. And you are. And I love you.”

“Damnit.” His dad’s voice thickened. “Come here.” He reached out.

“I’m not sitting on your lap!”

“Yes you are.” Big hands grabbed and pulled him.

“Da-ad! It’ll hurt you!” He’d felt the agonized reaction when his dad’s prosthetics were removed and knew exactly how sensitive that connection was. “Don’t!”

“I’ll be fine.” Vader tugged demandingly. “I need to hold my son.”

Oh. “Well… all right.” If Darth Vader wanted to cuddle, Luke supposed he could do it this one time. And his dad had a pretty big lap. Still, Luke slid his butt off to the side so all his weight wasn’t right where flesh and prosthetics met. When there was no painful backlash, he rested his head on his father’s shoulder. “This is kinda okay.”

“Kinda. As long as you don’t wrinkle my clothes.”

If his dad was able to tease, that meant everything was okay. _All_ things, even him hiding his suspicions about Leia. Which was a good time to ask: “Are you going to tell her?”

One big glove was removed and tossed aside. The fingers stroked through his hair, twisting the strands. Luke was very glad it was synthskin, not metal, because he’d tried using his own prosthetic as a comb, which hadn’t turned out well and Wes wasn’t here to get him untangled.

“No. The Organas raised her adequately— although too focused on politics— and she is happy with them. She had a better life than you did, Bug.”

“Is that why you chose me?” Now he felt under-appreciated. “Because I was the pathetic twin?”

The chest rumbled under his cheek. He’d made his dad laugh even though he hadn’t meant to. “You are a silly child. We’d been together a year by then. I loved you… despite how aggravating and deliberately antagonizing you were— and still are.”

“Who, me?” But he smiled and rubbed his face on the soft scarf. “So really, truly, you’re not going to tell her?”

“Not unless circumstances force it.” The tone shifted into uncertainty. “Are you?”

“I don’t want to. Unless something happens that makes it necessary. Like you said.” _But how will I keep such a big secret?_ “So, um...I really wanted her blood to see if she has more Force than me. Or if she has as much as me. Or if—”

“Her midichlorian count is lower than yours. Do you want to know what it is?”

Luke sighed happily. “No. It’s enough to know that I’m better than she is.”

Vader swatted his knee. “Now who’s not being nice?’

“I’m being honest.” He shifted slightly, feeling embarrassed (yet oddly pleased, which often happened when his dad did something sweetly un-Vader-like). He was at least ten years too old to be sitting on his father’s lap even if it was gigantic and he wasn’t technically on it. Anyway, there was no one who could see them.

“You are correct, no one is looking,” his dad reassured, chucking him under the chin. “We have many more years than ten to make up for. If I could convince the galaxy to spin backwards, I would go to the days before your birth and relive every delightful, frustrating, and preposterous year.”

“But then I’d have an annoying sister.”

“She might not be annoying.”

“Huh. You don’t know her. Anyway, what I was going to say is that her parents want to arrange a political marriage for her— not a real marriage,” he added quickly, feeling his dad tense. “So I had a brilliant idea and I think she likes it.”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“She’s going to tell her parents that she’s in love with Oz— Sky Ozoner— and is pledged to him, so she can’t get engaged to somebody else. Plus—” He paused dramatically. “When Bail Organa finds out that Oz is really _me_ and I’m Luke Skywalker, we’ll find out if he knows that Leia is actually my sister and that Anakin is my dad and that you’re Anakin. Isn’t that _brilliant?”_

After a pause, his father said, “Force, you’re devious. You didn’t inherit that from me. I’m not sure if that’s a brilliant idea or an exceedingly ridiculous, dangerous, and unnecessary one.”

“Whatever. But may _I_ remind _you_ that you suggested she would be a good _mate_ for me? And you _knew!_ What were you _thinking?!”_

One shoulder shrugged. “I was having fun with you. It’s called ‘teasing’ and you are not unfamiliar with that behavior.”

He frowned slightly. “Dad…?”

“That’s me, all day, every day.”

“Be serious! I… well, remember how you were so mad at me after the Death Star? You wouldn’t talk to me. But I guess it wasn’t just about the Death Star, was it? You were scared for Leia, too.”

“Are you pouting?” Vader grumbled. “The entire situation was a disaster. You, Leia, Palpatine, the loss of the Death Star and its crew— I was… upset. Unable to think or reason. Palpatine was furious. It was all— I was protecting myself.”

“So you lashed out at me like a wounded animal would— because I was there,” he murmured. When his father remained mute, Luke added: “We don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want. I understand.”

“I know you do.” His father’s mask rubbed against the top of his head. “At moments like these you remind me of Padme.”

Luke sighed. “Dad, I’m sitting on your lap. Please remember I’m not Padme.”

His entire body shook as Vader laughed. “Bug!”

Okay, now it was getting weird. He struggled to get out of the embrace and stood, stretching his arms high, rotating his shoulders and stomping his feet. “Enough with snuggling, can we go out again? After we talk about when your surgery is? Don’t tell me that you haven’t scheduled it, because that’s not acceptable!”

“It will be in a few weeks, assuming the galaxy is not in crisis. I will want you on the Executor a week earlier because I’m taking the ship with us to Carosi. It’s time we patrolled another sector. Apparently the Yavin area is devoid of Rebels, and my crew is getting restless.”

“As long as Palpatine doesn’t figure it out. Hey, if the ship leaves—”

Before he could finish, his dad responded. “No, I’m not assigning another ship to Yavin. The Rebels are perfectly capable of defending themselves, particularly since pirates are no longer an issue. And if they _can’t_ defend themselves— too bad, so sad.”

“Where are you getting this language?” he demanded. “Who are you hanging out with?”

“I’ve been researching. I thought you would be pleased if I sounded more like a civilian and less like a Sith Lord.”

“Yeah, well… okay, but don’t get carried away. And speaking of pirates, the Executor attack—”

The temperature in the cabin dropped so much that the air felt brittle. “I confirmed that the saboteurs were working for Xizor as I suspected. Xizor is dead, though he still walks. He will die as our plan unfolds.”

Darth Vader sure had a thing for revenge. “Are you certain that our plan isn’t getting too complicated?” Luke asked uneasily. “Now you’re officially adding Xizor to it? And I’m confused. Remember we were going to rescue Anakin Skywalker and—”

“That was _your_ plan,” Vader said coolly. “You were going to heroically kill Palpatine and save your father from enslavement.”

“No!” He distinctly remembered changing that idea when he’d felt his dad’s annoyance. “I was going to rescue Anakin, then Anakin would kill Palpatine to save me. And maybe kill Vader, too.”

“That is no longer feasible. Lord Vader will need to helm this new empire as we have discussed—”

“Not ‘empire’. Something else. Federation or whatever. Intergalactic Union of Planets.”

“Semantics. I will—”

“No no NO!” Luke interrupted. “It’s going to be like you said in the meeting! You’ll reveal yourself to be Anakin Skywalker and not really Darth Vader...or…. Wait. Is that right?”

“Essentially. Anakin Skywalker, hero of the Clone Wars, was captured and—”

“Maybe drugged,” Luke suggested, getting into the storyline.

“Drugged is possible. Definitely held prisoner by Emperor Palpatine, who was secretly Darth Sidious and believed to be an evil Sith sorcerer—”

“He _is_ an evil Sith sorcerer!”

“Valid.”

 _“Valid?_ What have you been researching?”

“And the evil sorcerer held Skywalker as his prisoner for 18 years and—”

“Eighteen?”

“Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, we’ll decide later. At any rate, Anakin Skywalker, though a prisoner held under magical influence and titled Darth Vader, also acted as a secret supporter of the Rebellion Against the Empire and was responsible for the destruction of the first Death Star—”

“Okay, stop. When did that happen? I’m confused again.”

“Details.” His dad waved his hand. “We’ll figure it all out later. As I was saying—” He stopped when Luke groaned and slapped his forehead. “What’s wrong?”

“Dad! What are you doing?! We have to have everything planned perfectly _before_ it happens!”

“Or we could act on impulse. Sometimes that works out better.”

Luke stared at the impenetrable facade. “Can you… up the oxygen in here and take off that mask? I need to see your face to decide if you’re serious or delirious.”

“I can, but I won’t.‘

He hoped the look he gave his father was The Look. “Dad….” Okay, time for a break and some flattery. “Why don’t we brood later? I want to see snow, and we need to show off— especially you with your elegant new image.”

“Hmm.” Vader held out his arms and rubbed his hands on the sleeves. Was he _preening?_ “Excellent. You want to go out again, and so we shall. I hope snow will live up to your expectations. In order to appreciate it, you must experience it.”

 _Of course I must._ “You’re making me crazy,” he muttered.

“Then you know how I feel.”

Oh, that remark was definitely _smug._ “Too bad, so sad!” he mimicked. “Let’s go find some snow! And maybe I’ll need to eat again before I leave!”

“You have become a bottomless pit of need. My fortune will be soon be drained.”

“Valid!” Luke grinned upward at the giant blue entity that was his amazing, perplexing, totally magnificent father.

# # #

Still wearing those great clothes courtesy of SkywalkingOnSunshine! 🥰


	9. Snow Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Vader have a day of father-son fun in the snow and have some sweet moments

* * *

“Are you superheroes?”

Luke looked at the orange Twi'lek who had come to an abrupt halt in front of them and was staring with huge eyes. The child was eating something that looked like snow in a flimsi cone— hey, maybe it _was_ snow. Was snow edible?

“Uh….”

“Yes,” his father declared in his gruffest voice, planting his legs widely and folding his arms. “We are the LoneStars.”

Now Luke was the one staring. His mouth dropped open stupidly, and he could think of absolutely nothing to say.

“I am LoneStar and this,” the impenetrable mask nodded toward Luke, “is my sidekick, The LoneStar Kid.”

Weakly, Luke raised one hand in greeting, biting back the most intelligent comment he could possibly say. Which was, indeed, absolutely nothing.

The Twi’ gazed at them with awe. The globe of ice fell off his cone and stuck on the heavy jacket for a moment before sliding to the ground, but the child didn’t notice. “Wow….” One lekku twitched. “You have three stars.”

“Uh...yeah.” Luke touched his fingers to his shoulder.

“And you have three stars there. And three stars there.” The child pointed to each of Vader’s gloves. “But only one star is on your belt. Is that the Lone Star?”

“It is. And now we must be away with all swiftness. We are on an urgent mission to free the galaxy.”

Fortunately the youngster didn’t question their urgency or ask how they were going to free the galaxy or what they were freeing it from, because Luke wouldn’t put it past his dad to say something about Palpatine.

“Make haste, LoneStar Kid,” his dad ordered, striding off, his long cape fluttering gloriously.

Luke trailed behind after a last wave to the Twi’ who was still watching them with wonder. “I don’t believe you,” he muttered. “When did you develop such a weird sense of humor?”

“I believe I was about thirteen when it happened. Possibly eleven. Maybe forty.” His father’s hand latched onto the back of his neck again.

Luke closed his eyes for a moment, shivering with a sensation that was becoming more familiar. This was the fun dad he could have grown up with. “What—why are you doing that? You never did this neck thing before today!” He tried to disguise his wistfulness by complaining. He actually enjoyed the contact, although truthfully it _was_ a little irritating when the fingers squeezed too tightly.

“It makes you easier to steer.” Vader demonstrated by turning Luke off the path and down a gentle slope.

“Where are we going? What are we doing? What’s over there?”

“We are going there, doing something, and the something is there.”

 _You’re in rare form!_ He grinned to show that was a compliment and then was distracted immediately by a new thought. “Hey! That kid said we have three stars. Does that mean our new uniforms represent the Third Side? You made them like this on purpose, right?”

“Of course,” his father said in a tone that indicated he had done no such thing.

“You did not!” Luke snorted. “Still, that kid was really observant, and it’s a good idea. Alliance/Empire/Third Side. See? Three stars!”

“And here I thought I made the poncho because you like stars on everything. Your pajamas, your robe, your shirt, my walls….”

“That doesn’t explain _your_ stars!” He didn’t wait for a reply to his observation because he was distracted again, this time by a lot of people running around in the gully they were approaching. “Look! They’re throwing snow at each other! Or is that hail?”

“They are called snowballs. Watch and learn.” His dad scooped up a handful of snow. “The snow here is perfect for snowballs. If it was too wet, it would turn hard like hail. If it was too light and loose, it wouldn’t stick together to make a ball. You see? Perfect.” Vader held the ball in his open palm, then flicked it.

It landed on Luke’s shoulder. “Really? You did that?” He brushed his poncho. The snow stuck to it. “This had better not ruin my— HEY!”

Another mound of the cold stuff landed on his sternum with a little splattering on his chin. His father retreated a few yards and began rolling more snow between his hands.

“Oh, yeah? Two can play this game!” He scooped up a big mound of snow and saw immediately that it was too much. It made a huge lumpy ball that broke into pieces as he tried to mold it, and he ran shrieking as his dad pelted him with more snowballs. “Hey! Wait! Stop!”

He backed himself against a small wood shelter and began manufacturing snowballs as fast as he could. But he couldn’t make a stockpile because his dad kept throwing and he had to keep throwing back. He landed a few good strikes, but it was hard because he didn’t want to hit his dad on his respirator or turn off those buttons hidden under the new tunic.

His father had no such inhibitions. One ball landed squarely on Luke’s nose and he gasped in shock. It was so cold! Although he licked and it tasted okay.

“Are you all right?”

He eyed his father as the man edged closer. “I guess. But my nose hurts.” Luke pouted and his dad drew nearer, concerned.

”Is it bleeding?”

Slowly, Luke clawed the snow off his face and frowned at it. Then he mashed it gently but firmly against his dad’s visor. “Mmm…guess not.”

Vader swiped at it, smearing snow across the lenses. Luke waited, maybe just a little worried about retaliation.

“Uh… sorry. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” He raised his hands when Vader began work on a new snowball, turning it around and around, adding more and more snow until it looked like a giant piece of hail. “Don’t hit me with that!”

“I won’t, Bug. It’s too hard, it would hurt you.” The voice was soft and solicitous and, as far as Luke was concerned, fake. But Vader lifted his arm and threw the ball over Luke’s head.

“Phew. Thank—” He looked up in time to see the ball smack onto the roof of the shelter. A huge slab of snow slid off and plunked directly on top of him, blanketing his head and shoulders.

His dad was laughing as Luke bent over to brush snow out of his hair. “Dad!” But his protest was full of glee, even though his entire body was cold and wet. He pulled up his hood and—

Snow cascaded out and enveloped his head. His dad laughed even harder and his breath caught, which sounded painful… but not painful enough to silence him.

“It went down my neck!” Luke moaned, laughing as he wiped his eyes clear. This was the best time he’d had in— well, maybe ever. Being with his dad like a normal father and son was even better than shopping. Impulsively, Luke hugged him through the layer of snow that caked his poncho.

His dad pushed back Luke’s hood. “Take that off before it melts and you turn into a soggy mess.”

“Wow, thanks for the sympathetic paternal advice, Dad.” He tsk’d as he tugged the poncho off.

“You’re welcome.” Vader snatched his wrap, shook out the snow, then draped it over his own arm before walking off. “Come this way.”

“It’s cold!” But he followed mainly because his dad had his poncho. Well that, and he wasn’t going to let his father out of his sight for even a second. “Give that back!”

“Momentarily. But first I will teach you something else.”

“How to keep warm without a coat? That would be a good lesson right now.” He tried to lengthen his stride so he could step in his dad’s footprints, but they were too far apart. Luke resigned himself to watching his boots sink deeper and deeper until it felt icy under his leg armor. He couldn’t believe he’d been excited to see snow. It was cold and messy and— well, okay, his dad made it fun.

Vader stopped and stood directly in front of him, grasping his waist with both hands. “Fall straight back. Don’t bend your knees. Hold your arms perpendicular from your torso. And don’t fret, the snow is deep, you will not be injured.”

“Not fretting.” Not wanting to do this either, but he’d save his objections for bigger battles because he wanted to keep his father in a good mood.

Yeah, the snow was indeed soft, but Luke decided that the only time he’d been wetter and colder was in a shower in the air-conditioned barracks. Or maybe in a rainstorm. Or on Dagobah.

“Now slide your legs outward, back and forth, and your arms up and down. In the _snow,_ Luke, not in the air!” Vader was obviously enjoying himself. “Good. Now take my hand and let me pull you up straight.”

“I feel like a puppet,” he grumbled when he was upright, and his dad took his shoulders and turned him around. Like a puppet.

“Look at what you created. It’s called a snow an—”

“A bird!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Cool! Like the birds in the jungle that I saved! That I hope they didn’t all kill for lunch.” He studied the image. If he had more time here, he’d figure out other designs he could make because snow held shapes much better than sand did. “It _is_ supposed to be a bird, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You made an excellent bird. Let me brush you off.” Vader made quick work of his task, then pulled the poncho over Luke’s head.

“Great! Now _you_ do it! Make a giant bird!”

“No. Are you hungry? Do you want to see the ice skaters again?”

“Not unless you do.” He smiled because it felt like they shared a secret. “I want to keep that memory by itself. It was magical.”

“It was.”

“But I need to go to Toodoodles again. I need a sandwich to eat on the way back, and I forgot that I need a hairbrush.” He hurried to catch up as Vader headed toward the town center.

“You’re not buying a cheap hairbrush, my dear bottomless pit of need. I saw a salon. We will get you one that has the best quality bristles.”

“I don’t need the best!”

“Remember whose hair you’re brushing, Bug.”

Oh, right. It was only _his_ hair for a few more weeks. “All right,” he acquiesced, “but I saw that salon too, and in the window they had hairbrushes with _crystals_ on the handles. Maybe they have a blue one with gold stars.”

“I sincerely hope so,” the Sith said insincerely. “Whatever the handle, it will be best quality, and we will purchase two. One for me.”

“You’re so vain, I love it! You take after me!”

“And we will purchase something healthy for you to eat on the ship.”

“And we will go back to your ship so you can pressurize it so you can take off your mask.” He was determined to have the last word in this conversation even if he had to change the subject.

“No, we will go to _your_ ship to ready it for your return trip. I can remove the mask there. Yahoo is capable of increased levels of pressurization.”

“It is?” Well. He’d never thought to check, figuring if the ship lost pressure that was what his helmet was for.

“Son, Yahoo can do everything a grownup ship can do.”

Wrinkling his nose, he linked arms with his dad, feeling more than a little cocky as they formed a barrier, walking down the center of the sidewalk, forcing everyone to detour around them.

* * *

“Okay, we need to talk.”

“I’m all ears.” His dad removed the visor from his eyes and readjusted the breather, testing the ship’s oxygen level.

Luke leaned his chin in his palm, watching. “Just think… in a month you won’t need to worry about pressurized air or using the mask to breathe.”

The silence was jarring in its intensity. Vader stared at the face shield he held between his hands and turned it over, his thumbs rubbing over the blue lenses. Then he fingered the equipment covering his throat.

“Oh.” Luke blinked a few times. “You… know that, right? But you haven’t… thought about it?”

His dad placed the covering carefully on the table between them, his breathing shaky whether from emotion or removing the respirator, Luke wasn’t certain. “Intellectually and practically, of course. But emotionally… you are correct, I hadn’t thought beyond the surgery, not in great detail. Not how it would… not the personal aspect, only how it….”

He was willing to give his father time to think about it, but Vader shook his head and sat opposite him. “Never mind. You want to talk about something. Let me guess— our plans?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Dad, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but you’re sort of impulsive, you know?”

That drew a chuckle but no comment. Determined, Luke continued. “Well, you _are_ and okay, maybe I am too, but I need to know our final plan. You can’t keep changing things and having new ideas.”

His dad shifted the chair sideways and leaned back, stretching out his very long legs and crossing his ankles. “First, we need to be ready for anything— even if it means reacting impulsively— in case the plan doesn’t go as expected. However, it remains as I described in our meeting. Basically.”

“Basically. Uh-huh.” That plan had seemed relatively solid, and the officers had appeared to support it. “But I’m worried that Palpatine may already know about us— or will find out— and that will change things.”

“And that is why we need to be ready to pivot. He certainly knows you are growing in strength, but I am confident he doesn’t know where you are.”

 _Pivot?_ Not convinced, Luke shook his head. “But he must know you’re the one training me. Isn’t he suspicious about where the Executor is? That it might be near me?”

“It’s possible. Which is why it is prudent to move the ship frequently to divert any suspicions that may arise, be they creations in Palpatine’s mind— or from the ship’s crew.”

Oh, great, the crew. More to worry about. “I don’t think the Executor should go to Carosi. That’s the only medcenter outside of Coruscant that can help you. He knows your cybernetics are junk, and he must know that you want better. And what if he has spies on the ship or on Carosi? I think the ship should go somewhere else, and we can take a shuttle or Yahoo to Carosi and sneak in.”

His father crossed his arms and considered his words before nodding. “Agreed. Good strategy, Son. In fact… it would be helpful if the Alliance staged some attacks, perhaps near Ord Radama. That would give reason for the Executor to travel there, and it’s far enough from Carosi to divert suspicion yet near enough to be a reasonable travel time. You must talk to the Alliance Council and direct them.”

“Oh, sure.” He still didn’t know when the Council was meeting. “They might not get together before I go to the Executor— if you still want me to come early, I mean.”

“Yes. You will be shipboard when we divert to Ord Radama. And Luke,” Vader reminded, “the Council must schedule around you. Either they come to Yavin or you go to them within the next two weeks. Remember to emphasize that we are fully able to execute our plan without them, but the likelihood of succeeding and conquering Palpatine is greater if the Alliance cooperates.” His dad frowned, his eyes glittering in that weird alternating gold-blue way they did sometimes, which was distracting and made Luke wonder if subconsciously that’s why he’d wanted their uniform colors to be gold and blue. Well, that and the baby stuff.

“Are you listening?”

“Uh… yes. I was wondering… when my mother bought the baby things were they for me or for Leia?”

A long whistle that maybe was a sigh came from Darth Vader. “Luke, we didn’t know we were having two babies. Can we get back to discussing our plans?”

“Yeah, but… I mean, who do you think was born first? Who’s oldest?”

“I’m certain it was you,” his father said firmly. “Now _focus._ Tell the Alliance that if they cooperate, we are allies. If they do _not_ cooperate, then no matter whether we fail or succeed the war will become more difficult for them.”

Luke frowned. “Maybe I shouldn’t open with a threat, Dad.” He rubbed his face. “And I still want to protect the base. I don’t want to make enemies of my friends.”

“Indeed? Tell me, Son, if circumstances force you into a position to protect one of us, will you choose your base or me?”

“Are you kidding?” He managed to keep the curses under his breath, just quiet enough so his dad wouldn’t say _language._ “You! As you well know! But it had better not come to that or I’ll be really angry.” He scowled. “And that’s _emotional blackmail!”_

“What do you know about emotional blackmail?”

“Hey, you _gave_ me those tapes, and I happened to like the psychology ones. And you definitely emotionally blackmail me a lot.”

“And you don’t?”

“Oh—” Nope, this was not going to escalate into an argument and spoil their day. “You know, I was thinking….”

“There’s more? I’m waiting.”

Really, he wished he could consult with someone who had known young Anakin Skywalker to confirm that his dad had always been a smart-ass. “This is serious. On the way here, I was thinking about all the plant life on Yavin and it reminded me of you. That you were…” He hesitated. Maybe his ideas were too intimate, too delicate to be voiced.

“Go on.” The voice was gentle and encouraging, so apparently the little snit about emotional blackmailing was over. 

“Okay. Well, when you were young you were like a plant that was dried up. And someone came along to— well, to water you.” He flushed a little. “And you absorbed the moisture and came back to life. I mean… you lived on Tatooine and it was a desert that sucked out all your juices— Don’t laugh!” he scolded when his dad did just that.

“Sorry.” His dad lowered his face to disguise (unsuccessfully) his amusement.

“I’m serious! I meant that Tatooine wasn’t kind to life. Then you went to the Jedi Temple, and it was full of growing plants and friends and teachers and learning, and you blossomed. But then in the— the _suit_ you withered again. And now you’re….” He gave up. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

“I do. That metaphor could also describe your journey from Tatooine to Yavin, from a desert to a planet of abundant flora.” His dad reached across the table and took his hand. “Luke, I know you’re talking about love. Specifically, how your love has given me a new life after so many years of emptiness and anger.”

He nodded sheepishly. “Yeah. And you’ve done the same for me.” He twisted his hand over to entwine their fingers. “I know we’ve talked about this before, but I needed to say it again.”

“You need reassurance.” His dad’s words were hesitant but tender. “As do I. Sometimes, Luke, I fear that I am sacrificing your youth in hope of repairing my mistakes. I worry that you may resent my demands and interference— if not now, one day.”

“What? Dad! I’ve never thought that! I’m not sacrificing anything— I mean, I don’t feel like I am. Just the opposite. I know how lucky I am to have you in my life. That you saved me and love me and take care of me and— I want to do the same for you.”

“You do, Bug.” Vader coughed and Luke stiffened, but relaxed when it sounded more emotional than physical. “But you expect too much. It is inevitable that I will disappoint you.”

“Oh, stop! It’s not _inevitable._ That’s just your withered side talking.”

A bark of laughter was surprised out of his father. “We shall see. And now, young one, since we have only a short time remaining, shall we meditate? It will be good for both of us. And then you should leave and surprise your commanders by returning early. But only a _little_ early.”

Wrinkling his nose at the idea of missing even five extra minutes with his dad, Luke nodded reluctantly and closed his eyes. His father’s hand cupped his cheek briefly before their minds joined in the healing embrace of the Force.

# # #

Thanks again to SkywalkingOnSunshine for the beautiful illo (and their three stars!)


	10. Razzle-Dazzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More father-son bonding before Luke heads back to the Yavin base. And, because he’s Luke, he has a wee adventure on the way.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you bought a fluffy that’s an offensive replica of me.”

“Offensive?? It’s adorable! It’s my own little Darth Fluffy.”

“Hrumph. Where’s the rest of your armor?”

“It’s right here! I’ll put it on when I—”

“You will put it on now. I will buckle the gloves for you.”

“I’m gonna wear the gold ones instead.”

“No. The gold ones aren’t armored.”

“Daaaad! It’s only two hours— _two!_ I don’t need armored gloves to fly!”

“You never know what emergencies might arise. Be sure to remove the monitor from Yahoo. Also, remember to begin storing some of your clothing in the ship in case you need it. And don’t eat all those snacks.”

“I won’t! They’re for the guys!”

“And get your next lung scan tomorrow. And please don’t immediately blurt that you want to meet with the Council urgently or they will suspect that you saw me today.”

“Why is that a secret?”

“Because I said so. Also, I know you still haven’t watched the entire personal tape I gave you.”

“How do you— Okay. I didn’t feel like watching the war stuff.”

“Indeed? Even though it’s clips of _me_ during the Clone Wars?”

 _“You?_ You didn’t tell me it was _you!”_

“I judged that some of my exploits were worthy of being included for your viewing.”

“You could’ve told me! Hey, speaking of death and destruction— what was that about destroying the first Death Star? There was an earlier one? One of the generals said something about it when I was eavesdropping on them when...uh...they were still alive.”

“Ah. Yes, there was a Star under construction many years ago. It had an unfortunate malfunction. Sabotage was suspected, but nothing was ever confirmed.”

“Huh. Why would ‘someone’ sabotage it?”

“This is all speculation, Bug, but perhaps someone thought it was exceedingly immoral and an unnecessary destruction of resources as well as sentient species.”

“Sabotaging it sounds like a Jedi thing to do.”

“There were no Jedi at that time. Or rather, none that were in a position to take action. And do not presume that every honorable action can only be accomplished by Jedi. Now finish your pre-flight check.”

# # #

It was time for him to leave but still they lingered, unwilling to say good-bye. “Do you want to talk about… you know. How it will be when you don’t need the respirator.”

“I spent years breathing without one, Bug,” the Dark Lord said drily. “I think I remember how to do it.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.” One fist clenched as his dad gazed blankly around the interior. “I will be relieved to be without it, but the irony is that I must continue to wear it as long as I function as Vader.”

“But you can adjust it so it only makes the sound but doesn’t force air, right?”

“Another technological miracle I must create.”

Even though his father grumbled, he could hear his interest in the challenge. “You’ve created a lot of miracles in your life, Dad, although the most important one wasn’t technological.” He waved his hands in razzle-dazzle just in case his father didn’t get the message.

“Yes, Luke.” Vader pinched his cheek, chuckling. “Now get going. Surprise your commanders. And don’t forget to take that monitor off Yahoo.”

“Dad! You must think I have a really short memory!” Luke grinned through the dejection he felt at leaving his father. “Let’s do lunch again sometime!”

“Only a few weeks, Bug, until you’re on the Executor, and then….” Vader hesitated.

“What?”

The older man squeezed his shoulder. “While you’re on the base, take time to consider if you wish to return there after my surgery.”

His mouth felt dry, and he tried to swallow. “You mean…?”

“You may prefer to stay with me on the ship. Or circumstances may necessitate it.”

He didn’t know how to answer. It was about more than being with his dad, which he wanted. But now he had friends and the camaraderie of working in the hangars and joking with other mechs and Kodra and lessons and freedom to be outdoors and explore and run and jump. “I… well, I have clothes there. And a great new mirror.” What would he be on the Executor? Even if he had freedom to roam the ship, _who_ would he be?

The hand slid up his neck to his cheek. Luke leaned his face into it. “You have much to consider, child. If you prefer not to be with— on the ship yet, I will understand. You have a moderate degree of independence now, as much as your commanders and your duties allow. Being on the Executor may allow you more freedom, but you would also have many responsibilities and expectations. Some decorum would be required, and I know how challenging that is for you. On the plus side, we would be together and could perhaps have more days like this one.”

“Playing hooky?” He plucked at the wrist of his right glove. “I don’t think this is tight enough.”

Vader allowed his segue from the uncomfortable topic and tugged at the buckle. “Just consider it, Luke. I will not pressure you further.” His dad stepped back. “Have a safe trip, Commander.”

 _Commander._ Sure, no pressure, none at all. He watched his dad walk down the ramp without turning around, biting back a request for a second hug. He didn’t want to seem needy again. Besides, he was nearly an adult and— and—

Well, crap. If being an adult meant facing such a big decision, he’d rather not grow up any more. Maybe he could find an age reversal drug. “C’mon, Yahoo, let’s go.”

_Your ship does not respond to verbal commands._

_It should!_ He smiled at the reminder of the first flying lesson his dad had given him. With a final virtual hug through their bond, Luke sealed Yahoo and they took off.

# # #

Hyperspace was boring but, under Galactic Rule #1 _(_ _If Something Can Go Wrong It Will)_ _,_ he came out of hyper only to get a shot across his bow mere seconds later.

“Seriously?” He didn’t need a scanner to see the frigate that had struck out because it was sitting off to his left. It was an Interceptor, which meant its armament was far inferior to what he carried on Yahoo.

 _What’s going on?_ his father demanded.

“Good evening, you cute unidentified luxury cruiser, you,” a cheerful voice greeted. “How are you this fine day? You look like you could use some help.”

“Do I? No, I don’t think so.” Too bad the person sounded nice. Oh, well, he supposed anybody, even Palpatine, could sound nice when they wanted to.

_Nothing I can’t handle, Dad._

“Looks like you need to be relieved of that pretty ship before it’s covered with scorch marks from our cannons.”

Huh. “You’re mistaken. I am Commander Yahoo from the Intergalactic Union of Planets Peacekeeping Force in this sector, and I instruct you to stand down and prepare to be boarded.” Maybe that would scare them off.

There was a long pause, then: “I don’t think so, kid.” The ship moved to face him and fired another warning shot that probably _did_ scorch Yahoo.

 _Kid?_ How could they tell he was young?! Luke frowned. And they were _not_ going to hurt Yahoo! “Well, I warned you. Too bad, so sad!” he sing-songed as he zeroed in on their hull, then let loose a string of volleys from his laser cannon— sort of intending only to disable them but not stopping until… oops.

The ship disappeared in an explosion of sparkles that was surprisingly satisfying. “One less hijacker in the galaxy!”

 _Good work_. His dad’s ship shot out of hyperspace behind him.

 _Are you following me?_ He Sent amusement and felt it answered.

_Only this far. We part ways now, little one. For a short while._

Kid. Little one. Where was the respect he was due after all his hard work? Where was—

 _Fierce little one,_ his father added before his ship turned and streaked away.

# # #

It was fun to surprise the commanders. He was back a whole hour early! Luke frowned and wondered if that had been wise. What if they expected him back early from now on?

Narra was munching on something, probably the remainder of dinner on the run, overseeing Dreis (who looked like he didn’t appreciate being overseen) directing the rearrangement of a couple fighters. They both turned to watch Yahoo slide in gracefully. Luke tucked it into the same space it had been, which was now _his_ space and everyone else had better stay out, just like they stayed off his place on the sofa.

Much as he wanted to model his new poncho for the guys, he decided to leave it on board and try showing more _decorum._ Also because of decorum, he decided to remove Darth Fluffy from the pilot’s console and tuck him out of sight in a cubby, although he did loop the bags from Toodoodles over his arm. He lowered the ramp and walked around Yahoo while awaiting the arrival of the team to unload it. There was a long scorch mark under the cockpit. Bastards! They’d deserved to die! Well, he’d clean it off when he wasn’t wearing his good clothes. He palmed the tracking device and tucked it in his belt, then greeted the crew and began to compare his manifest with theirs as they unloaded.

“You’re back early.” Boss was officially on duty now, but Narra was still hovering at his shoulder. “Will you get off me?” Dreis muttered to the other officer.

“I know.” Luke managed to keep a serious expression.

“Good trip? No problems?” Narra chirped, earning an irritated sound from Boss.

“Yeah, fine. Except for being attacked by a hijacker on the way back.”

 _“What?_ Pirates again?” Dreis and Narra exchanged scowls. “Dismantling the tracking device should have prevented them from knowing our schedule! Damn.”

“It was probably random. They were waiting at a hyper-route exit.” Luke shrugged. “Anyway, I eliminated the problem, so you don’t need to worry about those particular pirates.” He pulled the tracker from his belt and tossed it toward Boss who reached out reflexively to catch it. “Although… maybe they were following this one.”

Boss frowned and Narra winced. “That wasn’t our idea.”

He waited, but they made him ask. “Whose was it? Rieekan?”

The two commanders exchanged a look. After a hesitation, Boss shook his head. “Mon Mothma. She was concerned about—”

“The safety of the Alliance Council,” Narra said bluntly. “Before she calls a meeting.”

Luke turned away to finish the checklist and hand it off to an ensign. “Thanks.” He regarded them again. “What did she expect to learn? That I would run off somewhere and… do what?”

“I don’t know that she expected anything in particular.” Dreis frowned. “We— Rieekan too— told her it wasn’t necessary, but she needed to see for herself. As usual.”

“Hmm. Good thing I didn’t go somewhere other than Presbalin.” He straightened and smoothed his tunic. “I’m going to change. And please….” A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t waste your time and equipment like that again. Remember that I can detect monitors. If I’d wanted to divert somewhere else, I could have disabled it. I didn’t. I’d appreciate some trust and respect because from here on out, things will be getting more serious.”

He left them with that thought and headed for the barracks. _How was THAT for decorum, Dad?_ But he didn’t Send the thought in case bragging wasn’t considered decorumness… decoramy… decorous.

Time to check the language tapes.

As he crossed the base glaring at the dirt because it kicked up dust, a few people nodded to him. Go figure. Narra was right that he’d made friends— even though he hadn’t known when he was doing it. Must be his razzle-dazzle personality.

Unless one of them was his dad’s snap-spy and not a friend.

In front of Rogue barracks he stopped, wondering how he should enter. Why was this a problem so often? If he was himself, he would bound inside, chattering about his experiences. If he was Oz, he would be cool and nonchalant like he made solo trips every day. If he was the 501st Honorary Commander, he would be solemn and professional. If he was Luke Vader, he would— Well. Not sure what he would do then.

“Having another talk with your invisible friend? Or your father?”

“No.” He smiled at Cris Andres. “Just having a… an existential crisis.” That had been said by a character in a holo-soap yesterday. He wasn’t totally certain what it meant or if it applied to him at this moment, but he figured most of his life had been one crisis after another, so it probably had applied at some point.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The doctor looked his usual scruffy self, but for no apparent reason he’d added a purple belt to his hideous outfit.

Luke sighed. “It’s okay. Same old stuff.”

“I haven’t seen you all day. You look like you were on a mission. Where to?”

Couldn’t a guy wear armor without people pointing it out? “If I told you I’d have to kill you.” He relented when Cris’s smile faltered. “Kidding. It was only a supply run.”

“I was worried for a second there.” The older man grinned. “Must have been quite a distance. It took you all day.”

“Nah. Slow loaders, and I wasn’t in a hurry.” Was the doctor prying? And had he ever told Andres that he talked to his dad in his head? He didn’t think so, but supposed it was a logical conclusion since the doctor knew his father was a Jedi and Luke could talk to people in his head. Still…. 

“Hi, Sir!” He pretended like he hadn’t just spoken with Commander Narra who was approaching.

The commander nodded. “Captain. Oz.”

“Commander.” Andres smiled. “Glad you made it back safely, Luke. Good evening.”

“I’ll stop by tomorrow for my lung scan,” Luke called and watched him leave. 

Narra watched him watching. “What is it?”

He bit his lower lip. “Nothing, I guess.”

The commander waited a moment before asking: “Are you going inside or standing out here all night?”

“Inside.” He sighed dramatically. “But I haven’t decided who I should be.”

Narra tilted his head, lips quirked. “Be yourself, Luke.”

“Yeah, well… _myself_ annoys a lot of people.”

“Then that's their limitation, not yours.”

He sent a reproachful look toward his commander. “I annoy _you_ sometimes.”

“My limitation, not yours.”

_But I’m the one who bears the brunt of it._

“And I apologize,” the commander said unexpectedly. “I’ll try to be more understanding.”

“Do or do not. There is no try.”

One eyebrow raised. “Darth Vader?”

Luke snorted. “No, Yoda. He was a very _rigid_ teacher.”

“Ah, a curmudgeon?”

“That too. And a martinet. And grumpy and cranky.”

“Sounds delightful.”

Luke wobbled his head a few times. “Well, he was really old, I suppose that’s what happens.”

Narra chuckled. “I’m afraid to ask what ‘really old’ means to you.”

“Stars, he must have been like 900 or a thousand! He said he’d been teaching for 800 years.” He groaned. “Imagine! Eight hundred years’ worth of Jedi had to put up with him!”

The commander opened his mouth, but no words came out until he finally managed: “Yes, that would be defined as ‘really old’.”

“Yeah.” He paused on the bottom step to the barracks. “Hey, does the Alliance vet officers?”

Narra frowned. “Newcomers, yes. If they’ve risen through the ranks as volunteers, not necessarily. Why?” He cast a look back over his shoulder even though Dr. Andres was out of sight. “Are you suspicious of the doctor? He’s relatively new, but he checked out.”

It wouldn’t be fair to say ‘yes’ when he wasn’t exactly _suspicious._ More like… vaguely concerned. “I don’t think so. I mean… I looked into his background, and everything seemed okay.”

“Let’s go inside then.” Narra directed him to go first, and Luke decided to be himself because that was the easiest person to be. 

He flung open the door. “I’m back!”

The others were doing their usual boring things. Cards, holo, reading. Didn’t anyone ever go for runs or exercise? The place needed to be livened up. He tossed the bag of goodies on the table. “I brought treats! Sugar!”

Yeah, that distracted them, even breaking up the game. “You’re welcome,” he called when they descended on the snacks.

“Thanks!” a few called.

“Porkins, heads up!” He threw the second bag to Jek. “A present for you!”

“Chanilla?” The bag was ripped open. “Oh—hey! It’s a varactyl!” Jek’s grin was wide and toothy. “All mine! Thanks, Luke!”

“You’re wel—”

“What else have you got there?” Wes interrupted. “Clothes?”

“Not exactly. A hairbrush. And these.” Luke dug into the third bag and pulled out the gold gloves for inspection.

Wedge chuckled. “Now all you need is a place to ice skate.”

“I _saw_ ice skating! I really want to do that someday.” He decided to forgo asking the commander about the availability of a morgue on the base since Narra might think he wanted to practice blowing up bodies instead of making an ice floor. Although there was no reason he couldn’t do both. “And I saw hail and snow and I had a snowball fight and I made a snow bird!”

“Glad you had time for recreation,” Hobbie commented neutrally. “What’s a snow bird?”

Such ignorance! “You know! You fall in the snow and flap your arms and legs, and when you get up there’s a bird.”

“Oh.” Wes grinned at Zev. “And you didn’t get any more clothes? I’m disappointed.”

“Well…. Okay, the poncho wasn’t warm enough so I got a heavier one. And I’m leaving it on the ship,” he added quickly, because he was feeling possessive of the wrap that his dad designed for their uniform. “That’s all.”

Wedge unwrapped a chocolate bar and spoke while chewing. “Where did you see ice skaters? Was there a frozen pond? I remember a lake near home that froze sometimes in the winter.” He looked nostalgic for a moment before taking another bite.

“No, it was in a restaurant. They had an ice floor.”

“An ice _rink,”_ Zev corrected absently. “What kind of restaurant has a—”

“Oh!” Janson exclaimed. “Was it T’Ambora? I saw that on an _Exotic Eats_ show!”

“I guess.” It was, but he decided to play ingenuous.

“They had weird food— and it was _super-expensive!_ I mean, _really_ expensive!”

Everyone looked at Luke. “Uh… I didn’t eat much. But it was good. I’m gonna get out of these clothes.” This was shaping up to be a Night of a Thousand Questions and he was over it.

By the time he’d showered and redressed in the outfit he called ‘Sithly Casual’, the sugar had done its trick. The card game had been abandoned, the snacks were gone, and music was playing on a new audio system. Janson was dancing, sort of, flapping his arms around like a bird, and Hobbie was stomping on the floor which Luke assumed was his ‘style’.

“I need dancing lessons!” he announced.

“Great, then you can teach Hobbie,” Zev said. “But who’s going to teach you?”

“Master Kodra, but he doesn’t know it yet.” Luke tried a pirouette, but thought it was more like a kata than dancing. “I hope he knows how. If not, I guess we’ll learn together, because I need more moves than this!”

“Our needy boy,” Wes commented, breathless.

“You’re out of shape,” Luke retorted. And what was with the ‘needy’ stuff all of a sudden? Was that what he projected? “My dad says I’m a bottomless pit of need.”

Porkins snorted. “Well, if DAD says so, it must be true. Besides, you’re the only person in my life to give me a varactyl, so you can be as needy as you want!”

“Thank you,” he replied with dignity and decorum as he tried a leap-and-spin that turned out pretty darn well.

“Bottomless pit of need?” he heard Commander Narra mutter under his breath.

Luke smiled. Scored another point in his campaign to humanize Darth Vader!

# # #

Yes, they’re still wearing their new uniforms! Thanks again for SkywalkingOnSunshine for this beautiful art.


End file.
